Wildfire
by Reina-183
Summary: In an age of magic, elves, spirits, and dragons, can Quatre and Duo bring together forgotten heroes before it's too late? Yaoi 34, 12,5M, and others.
1. Solo and Duo

OK! This is my very first GW fan fiction. The pairings are 3X4, 1X2, 5M, and possibly DR. This is a fantasy, yaoi story, so if you don't like that sort of stuff, you have been warned. This story is kind of Eragon-esque, but it's with our favorite Gundam boys and a different story line.

Also, since I don't know enough of the ancient language to use it effectively, and there are no translation sights for it, I'm going to use Spanish for all the words I don't know in the ancient language. Why? It's a pretty language, and it'll serve my purposes.

Any advice/criticism is welcome, but please don't flame! I'll so my best to keep everyone in character, but if I slip, just leave a note to correct me! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, Eragon or anything affiliated with them. Please don't sue me as I'm already dead broke!

JJJJJJ

Quatre ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His ragged gasps echoed through the silent forest, his breaths dissipated into steam as snowflakes caked his eyelashes and glued themselves to his golden locks of hair.

Snow had covered his pursuers' footsteps long ago, the echoes of their voices far behind him, but still Quatre ran.

It seemed everywhere Quatre went; bad luck followed him. Robbers and thieves always chose him to rob, and this time was no exception.

They saw him as a pretty blonde with a few coins that he wasn't worthy of. They saw him as a free fuck. So he ran before they could rob him of anything.

_**THUMP!**  
_

Quatre heaved himself out of the snow, shivering violently. His left ankle ached with a pain that he was all too familiar with, thought that did not make him inured to it. Glancing down into the powder white snow, he saw a large egg-shaped stone. It shone a bright blue, as pale as the morning sky. Quatre knelt by it excitedly. It was pretty, and seemed to be made of some kind of precious stone. It was completely smooth, almost as if someone made it that way.

_This could be worth a lot at a market! The money could feed me for a couple months!_

Quatre almost groaned at that. Before, when he was younger, he had never needed to worry about money. He had never had to worry about anything.

_Nothing good can last. I should have_ _listened to Iria…_

Iria. She was his eldest sister of twenty-nine girls. He was the thirtieth child and the only boy of the entire family.

It hurt to talk about them in the past tense, even after five years. He could still see all of them, but his father's disappointed eyes stuck out the most. His father had waited for years to have a boy, and them when he was born; he was more effeminate than some of his sisters were!

Now he was gone. Quatre wondered, as he always did, what his siblings would think if they saw him now. Five years had not done much to Quatre. He was still short, thin, and delicate with bright blonde hair and pale blue-green eyes, the same shade of the rock by his feet.

Five years ago, there was a fire at the local Lord's palace.

_I can still here their screams, their horror and pain. I can still feel the heat of the flames as if it were yesterday._

His father and all of his sisters died. The maguanacs, his bodyguards and friends, had perished before his eyes. He had been out, playing in the garden when it happened. He had watched his family roast before his eyes, wanting to join them, but too weak and cowardly to leap into the flames.

_I am always too weak, always too cowardly._

Collapsing in the snow, he landed beside the stone with a plop. Tears fell from his eyes, carving trails down his pale face. One by one, they hit the majestic looking stone, splattering against the smooth surface. Quatre was so busy crying remembering his family and how they had all left him that he failed to see I white streak against the blue. Slowly, it grew, thin as a thread, spreading in patterns across the surface like long, pale fingers.

Steadying himself, he picked up the rock, bracing for a large weight, but getting the exact opposite. It was lighter than he expected. Pulling pack from the ground, he opened it and put the rock inside. All that it contained was a change of clothes, an oddly shaped case, a water bottle, and a few small coins.

He was dirt poor, more so than most peasants were. His wealth had died along with his family, leaving him alone to wander from village to village, doing anything to gain money.

He did not have many skills besides being able to read and write, mathematics, and his violin. Most of those skills were considered frivolous, and he did not make much money.

_Oh Great One, why did you take my family away from me? Was it punishment? Is this all one test?_

Trying to be as quiet as possible, he quickly traveled through the forest. He had no idea what types of dangerous beasts lurked in the forest, and he had no weapon that he could use to chase them away.

Clutching the pack to his chest, he felt the rock through it. With a sigh, he trudged on; hoping that by some miracle there was a town or village nearby.

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Duo examined the new sword he had just created. He loved being the town's blacksmith most of the time, it made good money, but he loved every weapon he made, and he hated to give them away. In Ange de la Mort, a small valley village, he a master blacksmith. People came from miles to use his weapons.

Nobody from the village used his weapons though. They were all pacifists, following the will of god, and the church. In return, God would protect them if anything ever went wrong. Duo, grasped the silver cross around his neck fondly with the hand that his dragon had blessed. He was dressed in the clothes of a priest, all black with the white collar, just to imitate Father Maxwell, his idol, and the man who gave him his last name.

'_Solo…' _His mind whispered, seeking his companion.

'_What is it, oh so annoying one?' _Duo, loved his dragon, Solo, and he didn't know what he would do without him. About half a year ago, he had found what appeared to be an unusual, violet stoneright outside his back door. Thinking that he could use the beautiful stone for the decoration on the hilt of some of his better quality swords, he took it in. A week later, Solo had hatched.

'_Oh, you know ya love me,' _Duo smirked to himself. He could just see Solo snorting in the forest behind his yard. Solo was just learning to breathe fire, and sometimes those flames could be deadly. Duo should know; he lost almost six inches of hair to one of those "accidents." Still, his hair was longer, shinier, and prettier than any of the other girl's hair in the village was. Yes, his three feet of beautiful chestnut hair was his pride and joy.

'_Are you thinking about your hair again?' _ He just had to get the dragon with the sense of humor. Duo grinned. He would not have it any other way.

'_Why, jealous that you're bald?' _Duo smirked. _Got him there._

'_You know, hair is wonderfully flammable. I'm sure all it'd take was one little flame…' _Duo's eyes widened.

'_You wouldn't dare!' _Duo could almost hear Solo's rough laugh.

Duo carefully set the sword out in the display area. A bell rung, signaling the entrance of someone, most likely a customer.

"Duo! Thank god you're all right!" A girl, with short, dark blue hair leaned against the door, gasping in order to catch her breath.

"Of course I'm alright, why wouldn't I be?" Duo was suddenly confused and worried. In the valley, those two emotions almost never reached anybody. What was going on?

'_Solo?' _He called out mentally.

'_I have no idea. I'm not even in the village.' _Solo was obviously as confused as he was.

"These two hooded men came, looking for a dragon rider, whatever that is. Father Maxwell told me to give you this and tell you to leave as soon as possible!" She tossed him a small but thick book, with golden characters.

"Hilde, what good is a book to me? You know I can't read!" Duo was confused now. Why would father give him a book?

Suddenly Hilde slumped forward, collapsing. A black arrow protruded from her back.

"Hilde!" No! She couldn't be gone! Hilde had been his best friend as long as he could remember.

'_Enemies!' _Solo's voice was loud enough to shatter his mental ears, but Duo wasn't listening.

"Hilde! Wake up! Listen to me!" Keeping the book in one hand, he sat by Hilde, gently lifting her into a sitting position.

"Du-Duo?" Her voice was so weak.

"Hilde, you have to live, you have to!" Hilde smiled up at him.

"Duo, your destiny… It is not in this village. It is not with me. Go, please." Duo pulled his gaze away from Hilde's face when he heard the screaming of children. The entire village was on fire. Everything was burning!

_God, where are you?_

They were all dying, falling to the ground either on fire, or with black arrows stuck in them.

_God, where are you?_

Nuns, in their habits, fell to the ground, silver crosses, gleaming in the sinister light of the flames.

_God, why aren't you protecting us?_

Duo's village was always pure; they prayed everyday and went to church every Sunday. God should protect them.

Babies screamed their lungs out, crying for their mothers, inhaling the poisonous smoke, choking to death on their own tears. In the midst of the terror, a Dragon landed in the center of the town. Gleaming fangs slipped from a dangerous mouth.

The dragon was huge, easily 20 feet long.

'_Enemies!'_

_God, why have you abandoned us?_

Everyone in his village was dead. Hilde's breathing stilled as she slumped against him. Several arrows shot the Dragon, and it was slowly making its way towards Duo.

'_Enemies!'_

The Dragon thrashed, hitting the two hooded men standing in the middle of the street. They went through the walls of a burning building, causing the entire complex to collapse.

"Solo!" The dragon turned towards him, eyes crazed. Duo ran toward Solo, hoisting himself up onto the saddle he had set up earlier, when he had first started riding Solo.

The dragon took off into the air, and Duo, not strapped into his saddle, clung on for dear life. Pain shot through his body from his left thigh as the telltale thump of an arrow reached his ears.

The last thing Duo thought before he passed out was, _God, why did you abandon us?_

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Quatre stumbled along aimlessly. He had been wandering through the forest for two weeks, but he had yet to find civilization. He had been lucky and come across several streams, and a few berries to live off in these woods. He had also wondered south, because there was not anymore snow.

His luck was only so good though. He was dead tired, and hungry, and berries weren't very filling. Besides, he had none left. The last stream had been seven days ago, and there hadn't been many edible berries. His stomach growled its protest every second of everyday, and his head was swimming.

_Maybe those last berries were poisonous._

The stone he had found had changed drastically over the last to weeks. Those white cracks had spread across its surface.

_Maybe it can only survive at certain elevations? _Really, Quatre was clueless at what was causing the cracks to spread. He would have left it behind a long time ago, but something urged him to keep it with him. Try as he might, he could not set it down and leave it behind.

Suddenly, the rocked let out a screech, pulling itself out of his arms and tumbling to the ground. Quatre stared.

_What kind of magic is this?_

The cracks spread further and further as the squealing continued. Hesitantly, Quatre took a step forward.

"What's going on?" He questioned. Suddenly, the rock stopped, and Quatre moved forward. He reached out a shaky arm and touched the shell.

As if his touch were the activation to whatever magic was going on, the rock began to crack along the white lines already formed.

Quatre jerked back as if he were shocked. Slowly, the rock crumbled onto the ground, and out of it came a bright, baby blue-

_OH ALLAH! It's a baby dragon!_

The dragon licked itself clean of any membrane, and stared intently at Quatre. It was truly tiny, for such a terrifying creature. It wasn't even as long as his arm! It skittered closer to him, and Quatre was struck between the need to run away from it, or try to get closer to it.

The dragon had wings several times longer than the main part of his body, and the skin was leathery and nearly translucent. Bones in the wings connected them, which led to talons, much like the wings of bats. A row of spines went down the dragon's neck, pausing at the junction of the neck and shoulder, before continuing all the way until the end of its tail. Its head was triangular, with starling pink eyes, and small, but painful looking fangs. It had claws of each of its four limbs.

Quatre slowly reached out his left arm to touch it. When his arm came in contact with the dragon, a burst of icy pain traveled up his arm at an amazing pace, reverberating through his entire body. Quatre shuddered and pulled his hand away as quickly as possible.

The pain shooting through his limbs, mixed with his lightheadedness almost caused him to pass out. The pain was racing though every part of him, lighting him on fire and freezing him at the same time. The only sensation that he could feel was pain.

Finally, the pain stopped, leaving him shivery and shuddering. His hand burned immensely, itching something horrible.

Frightened, he held his hand up, realizing that he couldn't even move his fingers. Shimmering on his pale skin was a white-silver oval, and Quatre looked at it in awe.

_Oh Great One, is this a sign?_

The dragon cocked its head at Quatre, bending its long neck to do so. Something touched his mind. It was a gentle prodding, but still an invasion of his privacy. Curious, he looked at the Dragon. Was it the one causing all of this to happen?

Suddenly, even more hunger overtook his system. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any food…"

Quatre looked down at his hands. Already, he had failed Allah in his newest test. Confusion and then understanding dawned on his little friend, and before Quatre could do anything, the dragon snuggled up to him, nuzzling his arm.

Quatre brought his right arm up to the Dragon, petting its head. The dragon, for all of its flaws, was warm, and it provided Quatre with the physical contact physical contact he desperately needed. Perhaps this Dragon was his friend. Quatre sighed. He would accept this gift.

_Thank you…_

Quatre awoke with a start. He hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep! His dragon had curled up on his chest, and as Quatre sat up, he brought an arm up to support the small creature.

Quatre could feel that they were both terribly hungry, but that was not what was bothering him now. Right in front of them was another Dragon. It looked like a larger version of Quatre's dragon, except it was purple, with bright red eyes. Hanging limply on its shoulders, between a gap in the spines, was a boy with long, chestnut brown hair.

Quatre felt his dragon's long claws sink slightly into his skin as it balanced itself on his shoulders, its tail wrapped around his upper arm. Quatre could feel two emotions, but he knew not if they were his or the dragons.

The first was fear, and indeed, Quatre feared the giant beast. The second emotion was wonder. Would his little friend ever grow to be that large?

After Quatre's mind overcame that, he rushed over to the dragon. The boy on him was unconscious and bleeding, and the dragon itself had several arrow wounds. Ignoring the dragon's hisses, he rushed over to the rider, dragging him off the dragon.

As soon as Quatre got the rider off, the dragon roared at him, a terrifying, loud roar that sent him, the boy he was trying to support, and his dragon all to the ground.

'_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?' _It roared, invading Quatre's mind. His dragon squeaking menacingly in response, or as menacing as a squeak can get.

"Please," Quatre stated, hearing himself talk both in his mind and vocally, "I don't wish either of you any harm! I just want to help!" He was being honest. He didn't bear ill will on anyone, especially not anyone else with a dragon.

Quatre lifted his arms as a sign of surrender, and in doing so, knocked something from the unconscious boy's hand. It was a book with gold lettering. It was titled, "Dragon Riders."

Quatre was so focused on the book, he failed to notice the larger dragon until his dragon let out a small squeak. The larger dragon was examining Quatre's left hand.

It was huge. Its head alone was probably as large as his torso!

'_You are one who is bonded,' _it stated.

Bonded? Was that what had happened when he touched the dragon. Was that what the mark on his hand meant? His Dragon squeaked possessively, as if to say, that's right! He's mine! Stay away!

"I don't know, but you're injured, and I need to get you and the boy help!"

'_Duo!' _The dragon insisted. Quatre blinked. What was the significance of Duo?

'_His name. It is Dou. Mine is Solo.' _

"Hello Solo. My name is Quatre." Solo's giant head nodded.

'_Do you know anything about medicine?' _Solo asked. Quatre shook his head.

"I'm sorry." He offered, as some sort of compensation.

'_So, you were so eager to help, but you had no clue what you were doing?'_ Was the Dragon being humorous?

"Well, I know a little, mostly about arrow wounds…" Quatre walked over to Duo and examined his leg. The arrow had gone completely though his thigh. Gulping, Quatre thanked Allah that Duo was unconscious before he snapped the arrowhead off. Then, as gently as possible, he drew the arrow out of the wound.

The wound was a bloody, gaping hole, and Quatre nearly threw up. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he hadn't eaten in two days. Reaching into his pack, Quatre pulled out his water carrier and his extra clothing. Tearing a strip off of his shirt, he wrapped the wound.

There, he said uncertainly, "it won't be very clean, but this will slow the blood flow." Dabbing some water on to the cloth, he cleaned the area around the wound as best he could without proper sanitary equipment.

'_Thank you.' _The majestic dragon told him, bending his neck into a weird sort of bow. Suddenly a wave of hunger passed over him, and he heard a squeak. Then everything faded into black, and Quatre collapsed.

He came around to sweet smell of food being cooked over a fire, and quickly sat up. His body wasn't ready though, and he collapsed again.

"So you're conscious! You gave Solo and I quite a scare! We thought you had died on us or sometin'!" Quatre turned his head towards the voice. It was the boy on the dragon-Duo. Now that he was awake, Quatre could see that he had unusual eyes. They were violet!

"…And so then, Solo brought back some meat and water and fruits and stuff like that, and I tried to feed it to you, but you Dragon was all like 'SEQUEAK,' wouldn't let me near you or nothing', so we hadta' just set the food there and let your dragon eat. Hungry little bugger, he is! He ate more than me!"

Quatre smiled. It was nice to be around someone who talked as much as him for once.

Duo handed him some stew, grinning, and Quatre, took it with shaky hands. The wood bowl had just been carved. Quatre confused looked over to Duo.

"Oh, those? I made them myself with my daggers. I was a blacksmith back in town…" He paused, and a look of sadness came over him before he shook his head as if to banish bad memories. His long, braid landed straight in Quatre's soup, sending it flying all over him.

_Good thing it wasn't too hot._

His dragon nuzzled his face and started licking the soup off. Quatre just stared at Duo, who was holding his soup soaked braid, trying to act innocent. Suddenly, Dou's face broke out into a wicked grin.

"So," he asked Quatre, "how did it taste?" Quatre burst out laughing, followed shortly by Duo. Quatre's dragon continued to lick soup off his face. Human companionship was golden.

_Thank you, Allah._


	2. Emerald Eyes and Pointed Ears

Duo sighed loudly, shattering the silence of the forest. It was a gray morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise.

_Hilde, Father Maxwell, Sister Helen… They're all gone._

Duo grabbed the cross hanging around his neck, an unconscious reaction. Solo was asleep, and Duo didn't have the heart to wake him. He was curled up in Solo's tail, warm and satisfied. The sharp pain in his leg had dulled to a constant throbbing, but Duo was worried that it might get infected.

_If I die from infection, then at least all be with everyone else._

That in itself was startling. Duo missed them, but yet, he still needed to live. He felt as if his mission in life was not yet completed, and that it wouldn't be for a long time.

Shaking his head to rid himself of bad thoughts, Duo focused on his newest companions. The blonde was definitely a cutie. He was small, and absentmindedly, Duo wondered how old he could possibly be. Thirteen? Maybe fourteen?

His dragon was a light blue-green, the same shade as his huge eyes. He was very thin, as if he didn't eat regularly, but still lightly muscled. He had an air of innocence about him that most of the world had already lost. He would of fit in perfectly in his village. Sister Helen would've loved him… Duo would bet his braid that the kid, Quatre, had never killed, was a virgin, and loved bunnies and butterflies.

OK! So what if he liked butterflies. He didn't meet the other criteria! Suddenly, the boy yawned, stretching his arms and inadvertently causing his shirt to reveal several inches of taut, muscled stomach, the same pale shade as the rest of his skin.

He rubbed his eyes, and stared at Duo, his look so intense that it caused Duo to up his age by a few years.

"You're sad," he said plainly. Duo blinked, was he that obvious? Quatre scooted closer to him, his baby dragon huddled in his arms, looking for all the world like a little kid clutching a stuffed animal, sneaking into his parent's room because he was afraid of the dark.

Leaning his head against Duo's shoulder, he wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Sometimes, we just need to remember not to blame ourselves for everything that happens, and remember that as long as we're still alive, we still have hope."

Duo wrapped his arms around the boy in return, leaning against him. The embrace wasn't in anyway romantic to Duo. It was just two people comforting each other.

"They all died." Duo figured there was no reason to lie. It's not as if he would loose anything by it anyways. Duo was a firm believer in the fact that honesty was the best policy.

"Sister Helen," he continued on, remembering all the fun times he had. "Hilde, and Father Maxwell, along with everyone in the village just died. We weren't expecting it at all. We had no enemies. No one had any reason to hate us!"

Quatre nodded, listening attentively. "My entire family died in a fire. Everyday, I remember them. I was only eleven then, and I was playing outside. Sometimes I wish that I had died with all of them in that fire…"

He squeezed Duo's shoulder reassuringly. "But if I had died, who would've found the egg and hatched a dragon? Who would've wrapped your wound?"

Duo thought about that. It was true. If he had died in his village, he would've never found the half starved boy wondering around the forest. If he hadn't been there, how would Quatre have found food? He might of even starved to death.

_But still, everyone around me dies… What is one life compared to a hundred. _

He saw Hilde again, holding out the book, and he panicked. "That book! What happened to it!"

Quatre started, apparently not expecting that reaction. His dragon squeaked, falling out of his lap.

Behind him. Duo could feel Solo stirring from his slumber. "The Dragon book?" Quatre asked, bewildered. "I picked it up and put it in my pack. Hold on a second and I'll go get it."

Duo waited patiently for Quatre to get the book. He just wanted to hold it, and besides, it wasn't like he could do anything else with it. He couldn't read, so books were useless to him.

"So what's it about?" Quatre questioned, snuggling back into their oddly familiar embrace.

"I don't know," Duo shrugged. "I can't read."

Quatre's eyes widened. "What?" Duo said defensively, "it's not like most people can read anyways, and far as I'm concerned, I'm not missing much."

"No it's not that, it's just…I could teach you, if you want." Duo looked at him, calculating. It didn't look like Quatre thought he was stupid or was pitying him, so he shrugged. Why not? He didn't have anything to loose.

"Sure, why not? I don't have anything to pay you with though."

"That's fine! I don't mind! Could you just do me a favor." Quatre exclaimed, clasping his hands, blue eyes huge. Duo narrowed his eyes.

"It depends on the favor."

"You made those daggers, right?" Duo nodded.

"If ya want my dagger, you're not getting them. I made these babies myself!"

"Oh no!" Quatre interrupted him. I don't want your daggers, I was just wondering, you know how to use them, correct?" Duo nodded.

"And if you want me to kill someone, I ain't doing that either!"

Quatre's eyes widened, the blue depths looking as if they were going to swallow the rest of his face.

"No! I don't want to kill anybody! I was just wondering if you could teach me how to use a weapon. I mean, I can fight reasonably well, but…"

Duo narrowed his eyes as Quatre's fingers strayed to his shoulder.

"What weapon do you want to use?" Duo asked. Quatre shrugged, staring off into space.

"I don't really know. I don't want a weapon to kill with, I just want something to protect myself with. Probably not a sword… I don't like bows and arrows to much either."

Duo nodded, searching his mind's eye for weapons. Personally, he wasn't a big fan of staffs, seeing as they were big and bulky and commonly made from wood. One strong sword strike later, and it was just a bunch of splinters. If he was going to teach Quatre how to use a weapon, it should probably be one with plenty of balance, unlike a pike or spear.

Scimitars! Those would be perfect for Quatre.

Somehow, the long, curved blades seemed to suit him.

"Now all we have to do is get to a village! Then I could make you some Scimitars!" Excitedly, Duo leapt to his feet, immediately regretting it as his leg gave out and he fell to the ground.

"Ouch!" Duo hissed, batting the worried Quatre away. "It's okay, I'm fine, just a bit weak, I guess." Testing out his leg, he found that any and all movement hurt.

'_Duo, we should get you to a village and allow a doctor to look at that leg.' _Sometimes Solo could be over protective, but as Duo felt his leg ache, he knew his faithful companion was right.

"There's a village a little ways South of here, I think…" Quatre trailed off, looking unsure of himself. Quatre was looking at the book Hilde had gotten him, and apparently it had a map. Quatre then gave the book back to Duo, looking sheepish.

Solo used his long neck to turn and grab the back of Duo's shirt and heave his onto his back. Duo managed to strap himself on to the impromptu leather saddle he had made, and he looked down at Quatre, clutching his dragon to his chest.

Quatre's dragon made a sound that was almost like a purr, rubbing itself against Quatre like a deformed cat. Duo reached out an arm to him, and Quatre looked confused.

"Grab onto my arm and I'll pull you up," Duo explained to the blonde. Suddenly something clicked in the little blonde's eyes and he looked up at Duo with a surprised expression.

"You're taking me with you?" he asked, apparently surprised.

"Obviously," Duo rolled his eyes, "how else are you going to teach me how to read?"

Quatre still looked a little bewildered, but reaching up, he grabbed Duo's arm and allowed himself to be pulled up, his pack secured to his back by a leather strap, his other arm around his dragon. He scrambled on in front of Duo, his dragon settling against his torso, his pack seated in front of him.

"Honestly Quatre, you really are a blonde." Reaching around the blonde, he put his book in Quatre's pack. He trusted that Quatre wouldn't steal it.

Quatre leaned back into him, and suddenly voiced a rather sensible question. "Wouldn't it be suspicious, two boys traveling together, especially with one of them injured?"

Duo had failed to think of that. These were suspicious times, and two people traveling together without any apparent connection would be seen as odd.

"If you don't mind, we could say we were brothers," Duo suggested.

"'Course, I get to be the big bro, and you're the baby of the family!" He continued, and Quatre made an indignant sound, causing Duo to laugh.

"What, if anything, you should be the younger brother!" Quatre sounded affronted.

"Nah uh!" Duo insisted. "I'm eighteen, and I know you can't be that old! You're probably only fourteen.

"I'm sixteen!" Quatre practically squeaked, "But still, you are older, so I guess you have to be the older brother…"

Duo ruffled Quatre's hair affectionately, just to annoy him.

"Glad you see it my way, _little brother._"

"Duo!"

'_Are you children ready to go yet?' _Solo questioned.

'_Hey! You have no room to talk Solo! You're only six months old!' _Duo mentally shouted. Quatre giggled, his entire body shaking.

'_Remember your hair Duo!' _

And with that they were off, Duo clutching his braid wearily, Quatre gaping in amazement at everything around him.

"Wow!" Quatre exclaimed, his dragon chirping away, hyper from their shared excitement. Quatre's dragon was growing quickly, and in about a week it was going to be able to fly on it's own, but for now, it was reduced to clinging to Quatre, staring at the sky it would soon be flying through.

Duo wrapped an arm around Quatre's waist, his hand coming in contact with dragon scales as he secured the two of them so they wouldn't fall off.

'_Easily amused, aren't they?' _Solo asked him, and Duo couldn't help but laugh. Up here, with his new friends and Solo, surrounded by nothing but blue air and white clouds, his braid whipping against his back, Duo could almost forget his village, and all the bad things that had ever happened.

It was still in the back of his mind, a scar, but for now sadness had retreated back into the farthest corner of his mind, allowing Duo a brief moment of excitement and happiness.

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Quatre gazed at his Scimitars with wonder. He could feel Duo's amused look focused on him, but he ignored it. The weapons were a work of art. Sharp, long, and curved blades were lighter that they looked, and felt like perfect extensions of his arms. The handles seemed to be fitted for his hands, and engraved into each handle were the letters QRW, his initials.

It had been about a week since they had arrived in thesmall village Quatre had pointed out on the map. Duo had gained full use of his leg back in an amazingly short period of time, all thanks to the village healer.

Sally Po was a tall woman with red hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. She was sturdy looking, but still undeniably feminine. When they had gotten to her hut, she had taken Duo in and said one simple word to heal his wound.

"_Cura!"_

It had stuck in Quatre's mind, always there, reverberating inside his brain. After Duo had been healed, he immediately went to the local blacksmith asking for a job. Apparently Duo was quite famous for his weapons, because he was immediately hired, and even allowed to make two scimitars for Quatre.

Quatre had quickly gained a job as the local school teacher, showing kids how to read, write, and do arithmetic. The village was quaint, and the people were kind. An old woman, widowed by her husband, forgotten by her grown children, allowed the two of them to stay in her house. She had bought them new clothes, deciding that their old rags were useless, and she was always complaining that they were too skinny, feeding them anything she could cook.

"So, do you like them?" Duo asked, violet eyes glittering. The question jolted Quatre back into the future.

"They're wonderful!" Quatre leapt into Duo's arms' nearly slicing both of them with the scimitars.

'_Iria, come see the scimitars Duo made me!'_

A giant blur of light blue landed on the ground in front of him. Iria, his dragon, had grown quickly, and now she was up to his waist, her long wings capable of lending her flight, though it would be a while before he could ride her.

'_They're gorgeous Quatre,'_ she stated politely. She was maturing quickly, no longer the baby she had beena weekand a half ago.

"So, what does Iria think?" Duo asked excitedly. Something somewhat troubling had come up lately. Quatre could understand what Duo and Solo were saying, even when they didn't want him to know, but Duo could only understand Iria when she was speaking directly to him. Neither he nor Duo knew why, but Quatre figured that it didn't really matter.

"She thinks they're wonderful." Quatre told him.

Duo leapt up and down, hyper and excited.

At first, people hadn't believed that they were related, but both of their personalities were so similar that they had to believe it.

Quatre traced the letters on the hilt of one of his scimitars. Duo was learning how to read very quickly. He already knew all of his letters and could string together short words. As a rule, they hadn't read from the Duo's book yet, becauseDuo wanted to be the first one to read it.

Though Quatre was itching to read it, he respected his "older brother's" wishes.

"Kay! We'll start lessons today. First of all, you have to hold 'um like this, or else your opponent can knock 'um out of your hands."

The rest of the afternoon was spent with Duo teaching Quatre various blocks and strikes, as well as when to use them. Quatre was a natural with the weapons, and Duo had hopes for him in the near future.

The distinctive clang of metal on metal was painfully loud in the forest as Quatre backed away from Duo, collapsing into the grass and dropping his scimitars.

"I think that's enough for today," Quatre breathed deeply, staring up at the clouds. Duo sat down next to him, not even out of breath.

"Come on little brother, I thought you could do better than that," Duo teased. Quatre knew that Duo was trying to make him angry so that he would continue trying, but Quatre was just too tired.

Duo laid down beside his little brother, staring up at the clouds. Seeing that Duo's stomach would make an excellent pillow, Quatre dragged his battered body over to him and ploppeddown on him.

"Oomph! Quatre, are you trying to break my ribs with that fat head of yours?" Duo asked, teasingly. Quatre giggled, relaxing.

"I think that cloud looks like Iria," Quatre pointed to a cloud which did indeed look like the female Dragon.

"Look, that one's an angel," Duo stated.

"No way Duo! It's a butterfly!" Quatre argued.

"Are you saying I'm wrong Quatre? I think you need to be punished for that!" Duo cackled evilly at the blonde. They teased each other like this everyday. It was fun, andit allowed them to forget all the bad things around them. Quatre quickly leapt off Duo, running as fast as he could in the other direction.

Duo lunged at him, knocking both of them into the lush grass. Sitting on top of Quatre, Duo started his tickle attack, causing Quatre to shake with laughter.

"Duo, stop it!" Quatre squeaked, attempting to bat Duo's hands away as they tickled as his ribs. Quatre somehow managed to escape Duo's grasp, running away from his 'captor.'

"Iria help me! He going to tickle me to death!" Iria gave him a mental snort, followed by a short, _'deal with it.'_

He turned around to see Duo catching up to him, and he was so focused on the other boy, he ran straight into someone.

"Oomph!" Quatre ran into a rock hard chest, before he stumbled backwards, falling straight on his ass.

"I'm so sorry!" Quatre said, looking up to see who he ran into, only for his breath to catch in his throat.

A bright emerald eye glared out at him from underneath a mass of brown hair, styled so that it covered the other half of his face, . He was tall, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had pointed ears, which could only mean one thing. He was an elf! He was so perfect, and Quatre felt very, incredibly stupid, falling down on hisrear in front of this majestic being.

Quatre felt a blush cover his cheeks as he sat himself up with is arms. _'Ooh! Does little Quatre have a crush!' _

'_Shut up Iria!'_ Quatre smiled up at the man, and he leaned over, extending his right arm to help Quatre up. Quatre grasped it with his left arm, and a shock traveled through him.

_His hands are so big, and the skin is so smooth!_

"Umm… Thank you," Quatre began. "My name is Quatre." Finding that he couldn't look up into those stoic green eyes, Quatre focused on the grass instead.

"Q, you OK?" He walked over to Quatre, brushing some grass out of his hair. The elf just watched them silently.

"Hi, sorry about this. My name's Duo, and the dude who rammed into you is Quatre." Duo scratched his head sheepishly.

"I know, he already introduced himself." Wow! His voice was deep and smooth.

"So, what brings you here?" Quatre asked timidly. The elf didn't answer him, and Quatre felt like he had just had a door slammed closed in his face. Instead, he turned to the older looking Duo.

"I need a place to stay, and I haven't found any inns," The elf said dispassionately.

"You can stay with us!" Duo offered. Quatre blushed.

"Come on Quatre, I'm sure the widow won't mind, you know how she likes company!"

Quatre sighed and held out his right hand to shake. "Um, welcome to our home."

The elf brushed past him, only saying, "thank you. You may call me Trowa Barton."

Quatre ran to catch up with him, noticing that he had a short sword strapped to his hip, and a bow with arrows slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, I have to grab my scimitars!" Running back, Quatre grabbed them off the ground before rushing back.

By the time he got back, Trowa and Duo were already heading into the house. _Of course, I haven't even gotten to know him and he already hates me._

Quatre entered the house to see Duo chatting animatedly with the widow and Trowa, though only the widow actually responded to any questions the cheery boy asked.

After an awkward dinner, the elf went upstairs, and Quatre followed him, showing him which room was his.

"If you need anything, just call me! My room is right next to yours." Trowa didn't respond, and somewhat put off, Quatre retreated to his room.

1234512345123451234512345

Trowa didn't so much as glance as the small blonde left the room. Instead he looked down at his right hand. It glimmered with an unnatural light, oval in shape, the mark of a dragon rider.

Currently, his dragon, Middie, was too far away to communicate with. Trowa had been forced to leave her when she became ill, in order to complete his mission. He was to find the two missing eggs that had disappeared from Elvin lands seven and a half months ago. One was a deep purple, the other a pale blue. So far, he hadn't found either one and his mind was filled with worry.

If those eggs found fell into the wrong hands, things would be difficult, if not impossible, to rectify.

He would search the village tomorrow, and if he didn't find anything, he would have to report back home empty handed. That would be a horrible occurrence.

Leaning against the wall of his room, his unusually sharp ears caught the sound of the blond breathing on the other side of the wall.

His slow, shallow breaths were calming, and Trowa soon found himself lulled to sleep.

_**Creak!**_

In an instant, Trowa was up and armed, his arrow at the intruder's neck.

"What are you doing here?" Trowa asked, voice monotonous.

"I was just bringing you breakfast," the boy answered, motioning to the tray in his hands.

Trowa pulled the arrow away, noticing that he had nicked the boy's neck. A small amount of blood gathered at his collar.

"Sorry," he said, and the blonde smiled at him.

"It's no biggie, I've had worse." Setting the tray down on Trowa's bed, the blonde pulled away, bringing his left hand up to wipe away the blood with the back of his fingers.

Trowa's eyes widened as he saw that the boy had an identical white-silver oval on his hand.

_This boy is a rider?_ He thought incredulously. Riders were supposed to be warriors, and excellent at magic, but this boy looked like he wouldn't even be able to lift a sword.

"If you want, I can show you around town today. It's not that big, but it's easy to get lost." Trowa thought about it.

Obviously, if this boy was a rider, he needed to evaluate him and see if he could be of any use to them.

"What time?" Trowa asked. The blonde, obviously not expecting him to accept, blushed.

"Oh! In around a half an hour, just after I take a bath." With that, he scampered out of the room, leaving Trowa to eat his breakfast in peace.

_Interesting, _Trowa thought. _Very interesting._

The blonde appeared about twenty minutes later, his damp hair falling into his eyes. He was wearing a pair of tight black pants, and a simple white shirt.

"Ready to go?" He asked cheerily. Trowa nodded, silently following the petite blonde out of the house.

The town was indeed small, and most of it was residential. "This building is the school house," Quatre explained. "I teach here Mondays through Fridays."

The school house was a quaint place, humble but cheery, much like the blonde. It was isolated from the rest of town, surrounded by fields where children most likely played during breaks.

Trowa could smell the sweet aroma of evergreens and other northern flowers not yet destroyed by the upcoming fall. They reminded him of his home and his sister Catherine.

"This is the blacksmith's shop, where Duo works, and the healer, my friend Sally's, hut, and here's the bakery. They have the best bread!" On queue, the blonde's stomach growled, and he laughed nervously.

Pulling a few coins out of the pocket of his tunic, Trowa entered the shop, buying the blonde a blueberry muffin. It was uncomfortable, since the baker, a plump old man, kept glancing from Trowa to Quatre and acting as if they were a young couple, completely enamored with each other.

_I only bought him the muffin because it was polite. _

The next stop was the butchers, which Quatre avoided. "Dead animals aren't my thing," he explained.

"But yet you still eat them," Trowa replied. Humans were such hypocrites, preaching against war and cruelty, and then killing animals to eat.

"So do you," Quatre stated simply, walking away. Trowa blinked, he hadn't been expecting a reply like that.

Soon the tour was over, and Trowa still hadn't found out anymore about Quatre, beside the fact that he was a school teacher. It was mildly frustrating.

The rest of the afternoon was spent scavenging the forest near the town, but he didn't find a thing. No eggs.

On his way back, he heard the sound of metal cutting air. Following his ears, he found the blonde swinging his scimitars through the air in a series of simple but effective strikes and blocks. The scimitars were gorgeous, obviously forged by someone with a lot of skill, enough to rival even the elves.

Trowa appeared silently behind the blonde. Suddenly he swung around, not noticing Trowa, and swinging his scimitars at the elf. Only Trowa's extremely quick reflexes allowed him to draw his sword and block the strike in time.

"Oh My! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were there!" He dropped the scimitar, and it landed on the solid Earth with a dull clang. His left hand caught the light, and before he could move it away, Trowa grabbed it, seeing that indeed, the boy was marked.

"You're a rider." It was a statement, not a question. The blonde's eyes widened substantially, pits of pale blue-green looking understandably startled.

"H-How do you know?" Quatre asked, shocked. Trowa lifted his right hand, showing Quatre the white mark.

"I guess that's one egg I don't need to find."

An awkward silence filled the air as Trowa let go of Quatre's wrist.

"Eggs?" Quatre asked. Trowa nodded and Quatre gulped.

"Would one of the eggs happen to be light blue, and the other one purple." Trowa nodded, wondering what the blonde was talking about. Quatre sighed.

"Then that makes two eggs that you don't have to find. My friend, Duo, hatched Solo nearly seven months ago."

Trowa couldn't believe. This was unreasonable, but very handy for him.

"So now what?" Quatre asked. Trowa sighed.

"Traditionally, the custom is that inexperienced riders are taught by more experienced ones under elfin watch."

"Oh…" Quatre, sighed.

"I guess that means that from now on I'm your teacher," Trowa shrugged.

"B-But what about Duo!" Quatre exclaimed. Trowa had a headache just thinking about it.He didn't think he could stand training anyone so talkative.

"Until we get back under elfin territory, I will teach only one pupil. It's law." Quatre nodded.

"How long until we leave?" He asked.

Trowa calculated the time it would take for Middie to get to this town. "About three days," he replied.

Seeing the blonde's confused look, he knelt and handed him his scimitar and left him to his training.

He could feel the blonde's eyes burning into his back until he shut the door.

_Both eggs hatched, and for humans? This is far different than expected. _

Silently, Trowa wished that both Middie and Catherine were here. They always knew what to do. But for now, he was stuck training the blonde, and most likely explaining everything to both of them. It was going to be a busy evening.


	3. Blue Fire

It had taken a long time, but finally, Heero Yuy glanced in at the first of his victims. The sun was setting over the quaint little town, and it shone like fire in the assassin's cold, Prussian blue eyes. The mission objective had been simple, assassinate the two new Dragon Riders and their Dragons.

Slowly and silently, Heero pulled his dagger from it's leather sheath. With an almost feline grace known only to his species, he clung to the brick wall of the house. Peeking in the window, he saw the blonde laying in bed, his eyelids fluttering as he dreamt. Opening the window without so much as a creak, the lithe fire spirit made his way into the room, hopping onto the wooden floor.

_Creak…_

Heero paused, mid-step, but the small blonde just turned in his sleep, muttering innocent nothings to his pillow. As silently as possible, Heero tip-toed towards the blonde. With each footfall he paused, glancing at his victim to make sure he wasn't awake. It was always harder when they struggled.

He was closer now, and he could hear the blonde's shallow breaths, loud, but not quite snoring. Finally, he reached the foot of his bed, and raising his dagger over his head, he prepared to strike.

The blonde looked so innocent in his slumber, and so young, and Heero wondered what the boy would miss in this life time. Had he ever loved? Had he ever gotten drunk and stumbled home, only to wish he was dead the next morning? Had he ever lost someone dear to him, or had his heartbroken?

If he died, would anyone miss him?

Heero forced his thoughts away from those topics. It was not good to think of your victim as a living, breathing, sentient being. Besides, this was a mission, and Heero Yuy never failed a mission. The muscled tensed in his arms as he prepared to end his victim's life. Trembling slightly, as he did before all his kills, he whispered words far too familiar.

"Mission accomplished!"

Quick as lightening, he brought the blade down into his victims heart. Milliseconds from contact, the boy opened stunned baby blue eyes. Heero hated it when he saw their eyes; those sad, lifeless eyes, overflowing with fading terror and shock as they whispered farewell to life.

He closed his eyes as his dagger hit, and it plunged through with less resistance than expected from a human's body. A scream, not his, sounded, and Heero sent a fleeting look down at his victim, only to see a torn feather mattress, stained with a small amount of blood.

_Never close your eyes to the victim._

Turning, he focused on the blonde, who was clutching his arm, a testament to his close encounter with death. Before he could completely refocus, the blonde kicked the dagger from his hand, flinging it out the window.

With reflexes honed to perfection through years of study, Heero caught the leg, twisting it, and sending it's owner to the ground. With an impersonal efficiency that only a killer should know, he tackled his victim, pinning his arms above his head with one arm and reaching for his hidden dagger with the other.

The blonde's eyes were filled with determination, and Heero could tell he wasn't going to give up on life so easily. It was always harder when they struggled. A sudden knee to the gut forced Heero off the blonde, but he resisted the instinct to clutch his abdomen. Rising to his feet, he saw that the blonde was already racing towards the door.

Acting on instinct, Heero flung the dagger at his victim's back, hearing the sickening sound of steel cutting its way through flesh.

The blonde gasped, falling to the ground. Slender fingers reached towards his back, attempting fruitlessly to remove the weapon from it's resting place.

Heero walked forward and pulled the blade from the blonde's back, ignoring the blonde's scream of pain, grimacing as the warm blood slid down its handle onto his hands. Turning the blonde over, he stared stoically into pained, frightened eyes.

Heero Yuy never failed a mission. Whether it was a small child or an eighty year old man, they never escaped Heero Yuy, even if each one of them took a piece of his soul with them.

The blonde didn't plead for his life, only gasped his fading last breaths. Heero lifted the dagger, gazing down at his victim. It was time to end this.

"Goodbye, Dragon Rider."

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Duo hummed on his way back from work, sweaty and tired, but happy. In his right hand was a small sack of candy for Quatre, his blonde brother. Even after his time spent in the village, the boy was far too skinny, and that was a situation Duo planned to remedy as quickly as possible.

Since he had arrived at the village, he had completely revamped his wardrobe. His old black pants, which were torn and bloody from his arrow wound, had been replaced with baggy leather pants which were held up by a sturdy belt, tucked into thigh-high boots that bent with his feet to accommodate running and fighting. A skin tight, black cotton shirt tucked into his pants, and over that was his black priest's jacket, left unbuttoned.

Quatre often complained that his entire ensemble was black, and that all of the garments were identical. Duo allowed a brief frown to mar his usually happy features. Black was the color of mourning, wasn't it?

'_The little one was right, Duo. You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. There was nothing either one of us could have done.'_

Duo blushed slightly, ignoring Solo for the moment. Sometimes he forgot the dragon could hear his every thought.

_'Still, in these few weeks, I've become close to Quatre. He's just like the little brother I never had. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him as well.'_

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Duo looked towards his house. He would see Quatre in just a few moments, and he knew his brother would love the candies.

As he neared the house, something seemed out of place. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but the silence in the house was deafening. Usually, Quatre met Duo at the door, since school got out much earlier. With the two of them together, there was never silence.

'_Be on your guard. Something is not right here.'_

Forgetting that he couldn't see it,Duo noddedat Solo's advice, tip-toeing up the stairs, avoiding the squeaky ones, and edging along the wall where their was less noise.

_Come on Quatre, please, just be napping or something!_

"Goodbye, Dragon Rider."

That voice wasn't Quatre's, and it wasn't his! Without thinking, Duo unsheathed his daggers, racing for Quatre's door.

"Quatre!"

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"Quatre!"

Quatre's eyes came into focus as he heard Duo's voice. The assassin above him looked startled, obviously taken aback by the fact that there was a witness to his dirty crimes. Quatre's back hurt more and more with every breath he took, and his arm burned with a passion. It was so easy to just give up and die. He could just end it all and join his family.

Quatre fell limp underneath his murderer, closing his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the bloody dagger in the other boy's hands.

'_NO!'_

Suddenly, like a lance, Iria shot though the window, attacking the other boy. Raising his hands in self defense, he lunged out with the dagger, attempting to strike the dragon.

"NO!" This time it was Quatre who spoke. This boy, whoever he was, could do whatever he wanted to him, but the assassin would not toy with those people most precious to him.

Quatre caught the boy's arm in his hands, using every once of strength in his body to push the assassin backwards.

By some miracle, Quatre managed to flip the assassin, and now, he was on top. At that moment, Duo burst through the door, and Quatre gave him a watery smile. Heaving, Quatre looked from Duo to Iria, making sure that both of them were alive. Seeing that both of them were fine, Quatre allowed himself to relax, finally succumbing to the dreadful pain all over his body by passing out on his opponent.

"_Cura."_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, that voice floated around, spoken in a deep, silky smooth voice that Quatre couldn't place.

Suddenly the pain and soreness in his body floated away, and peace settled in like a summer's breeze for what seemed like an eternity. In his mind, several people cried out his name, but he could only recognize two voices.

Duo and Iria were calling him.

Slowly lifting a heavy eyelid, glazed blue-green eyes stared at the world. There were two very blurry shapes above him. One was humanoid, but the other appeared to be some sort of animal. There was also something warm clutching his hand.

"Quatre, little brother, come on! You have to wake up!"

'_Quatre, please, do not give up now.'_

"Duo, Iria?" Another blue eye opened itself for the world, and Quatre watched as everything came into focus, and two pairs of eyes, one violet, and the other pink, stared at him with relief.

"You gave us quite a scare, little one." Quatre turned his head and saw another person in the corner, with brilliant green eyes.

"Trowa?" He questioned. The elf nodded, and Quatre turned his eyes to the only remaining person in the room. It was that man, the assassin. He was tied and gagged, but even that couldn't deter his glaring dark blue eyes, and Quatre knew that those eyes would haunt him for years to come.

Duo tightened his grip on Quatre's hand, and Quatre sank farther into the bed.

"I wanted to kill the bastard, but Mr. Eerily-silent-elf over there decided that we should bring him back to his little elfin leader people to see what his punishment should be."

Quatre nodded, finding himself unable to break contact with those eyes.

"How long have I been sleeping?" Quatre asked, still staring at the assassin.

"Two days," Duo replied, and when Quatre finally turned to his brother, he could see deep circles underneath Duo's eyes.

"I bet you haven't slept once in those two days, have you Duo!" Quatre accused. He expected a sheepish smile, but instead he saw Duo's eyes harden.

"I couldn't leave you alone in here with that thing!" Duo pointed in said 'thing's' direction.

"Yes, well, I'm not alone anymore, so you can go to sleep," Quatre insisted. He could see that Duo was going to refuse, so gently tugging on Duo's long braid, he pulled the taller boy into bed with him. Letting out a huge yawn, Duo crawled beneath the covers, an arm aroundQuatre's waist pullinghim up against the braided boy. Soft snores followed, and Quatre rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you tired as well, Iria?" Quatre asked. Iria bent her long neck, which Quatre had started to take as a yes, and curled up against Quatre's middle, immediately resting. Quatre yawned, about to go to sleep, when he remembered the assassin in the room.

Staring up at him with tired eyes, Quatre fought the weariness in his body in order to stay awake. "It's okay, little one, I will watch over your sleep." Quatre glanced up at the elf. He had only known him one day, and it was most likely pure folly to trust him, but somewhere deep inside of him, Quatre knew that Trowa wouldn't hurt him.

"Sleep," the soothing voice commanded, and Quatre obeyed, falling into a deep, dreamless slumber.

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'_That looks like some sort of bestial orgy,' _Middie, Trowa's dragon, snorted.

'_Middie?' _Trowa asked. Inside, he was filled with happiness over the fact that his sarcastic dragon was back, but he was also surprised. She was earlier than he had expected.

Turning, Trowa saw her peeking her giant cinnamon colored head in through the window.

Reaching out a hand, he pet the deadly creature, allowing his hand to take in the comforting feel of her scales.

Turning away from his beloved dragon, Trowa followed her gaze to said 'bestial orgy.' To him, it looked like Quatre was clutching a rather reptilian teddy bear, but there was no mistaking Duo's protective arm around the smaller blonde.

_A lover's embrace…_

Trowa felt slightly disgusted, as the thought of two men together never did seem totally logical to him, and surprisingly, slightly jealous. Shaking away the possibility of him lusting over either of the two, he attributed it to the fact that he was nearing one hundred, and hestill had no mate to show for it.

'_Hmm… None of them are good enough for you!' _Middie spoke up in his mind. Trowa graced her with a mental smile, remembering all the times that elfin females, interested in him, had been singed or chased away by Middie. The only woman she approved of was Catherine, but Trowa gagged at the possibility. Incest was even more illogical to him than homosexuality.

'_It's that closed mindedness that will keep you from happiness,' _Middie warned, mentally frowning at him. Ignoring her for the moment, Trowa instead focused on the assassin in front of him.

After a brief period of silence, where it was made painfully obvious that the tied and gagged man wasn't in any position to begin a conversation, Trowa leaned forward and undid the gag.

"Tell me your name," Trowa demanded, his voice cold and emotionless. The assassin just glared at him, keeping silent.

'_Maybe the direct approach isn't the best one.' _Middie commented, in one of her rare, serious moods. Trowa had to agree with her on that. Stoically, he raised an arm which was wrapped by white magic. There was always an easy way and a hard way.

"I thought elves were above torture," the assassin smirked. Trowa rested his glowing hand gently on Heero's face. Slowly, his eyes shut in preparation for what he was about to do.

'_A man's last haven is his mind,' _Middie reminded him. _'Do this, and it will be worst than if you violated his body.' _Middie seemed unsure, even though she herself had proposed this option in the first place. After all, what Trowa was going to do was not something that could be taken lightly.

Opening his eyes, the elf locked gazes with the fire spirit. "You know that I could find out any information I wanted to without your consent. It will be easier if you surrender."

The assassin seemed to contemplate this for a moment before letting out a barely perceivable sigh. "Heero Yuy, of _Talon del Diablo._"

'_Talon del Diablo… The Devil's Claw. They must be pretty arrogant to call themselves that. He who speaks of the devil shall meet him in the next world.'_ Middie contemplated this while Trowa narrowed his eyes. He recognized the name. They were a group of assassins who originated from the Sanq Kingdom. Their leaders, the Peacecrafts, had sought to destroy them, and in response, they had destroyed the family. The organization was supposedly lead by Treize Khushrenada.

For Heero to say that he was sent by them meant that they knew Quatre and Duo were Riders, and they wanted to prevent any troubles the two might cause.

"Why were you sent to kill them?" Trowa asked. Heero glared at him, his eyes full of blue fire.

"I only do as they ask. You don't question the hand that feeds you." Middie snorted and Heero glared at her.

They needed to leave this village as quickly as possible. If The Devil's Claw was out for the Rider's blood, noamount of innocent liveswould get in their way.

Walking over to the bed, he roughly shook Duo awake. While Quatre had been unconcious, Trowa had explained everything to the talkative boy, who had more questions than there were stars in the sky.

"What is it?" Duo muttered groggily.

"Pack your stuff, as well as Quatre's. We leave immediately." Duo looked confused, but rushed to do as the elf said, tangling himself in his bed sheets and braid in his haste. Trowa fought back a smile. Turning to the blonde, he moved to wake him as well when Middie stopped him.

'_Let the child rest. He needs it.'_ Middie suggested. Turning his back on the blonde, Trowa turned his attention to Heero. To release him from his bindings was risky at best, and to leave him in the room, unsupervised, with the sleeping boy was idiotic.

"_Levantese," _Trowa whispered, and to Duo's obvious amazement, the chair lifted off the ground and followed Trowa out the door, the assassin still in it.

"I gotta learn how to do that!"

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After witnessing the chair spectacle, Duo rushed into his room, tripping over the blanket. Packing up his pants, shirts, socks, and undergarments, he dumped his money, as well as the book Hilde gave him, into a carrying bag. He paused, not quite understanding why he brought the book, except for the fact that it _felt _important to him. He could still see a small amount of Hilde's blood on the cover, and as gory as it was, that was the only piece of her that he had left.

'_Am I forgetting anything?' _Duo asked Solo.

'_You might want to pack some food. Elves don't have to eat often, and they usually forget that other species need nourishment.'_

Duo nodded and dumped the candies he had gotten for Quatre into a separate container. Running downstairs, he rammed straight into Sally. He wobbled backwards, his braid smacking against the wall before he fell backwards onto the hard wooden floor. Rubbing his abused backside, he glared angrily up at Sally.

"You're leaving, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question, and Duo nodded.

"Why are you here? How do you know?" He asked, and Sally smiled.

"I have my…Ways," She replied. A large cat purred, nuzzling her legs.

"Here, it's on me." Duo caught the massive water container before it hit him in the head, ignoring the other package as it fell onto his lap. Suprisingly, the container was much lighter than it should have been.

'_It's enchanted,'_ Solo supplied. Duo shrugged. That in itself made sense. Turning to the other package, he could see that it was filled with a plentiful amount of dried fruit and salted meats.

"It doesn't make up for knocking me over, but thanks Sal." Sally nodded, giving another one of her smug, mysterious smiles and a short laugh before walking away.

'_I have a feeling that this isn't the last time we'll see that woman,'_ Solo decided. Duo didn't answer, heading back to his room. Throwing the food into his newly created, 'food compartment,' Duo turned towards Quatre's room, surprised to see the blonde already there and packing his clothes, Iria at his side.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" Duo asked the blonde.

Quatre smiled at him, his eyes glinting almost mischievously in the warm light. "As if I'd let you pack for me."

'_He's got you there,'_ Solo teased.

"Hungry?" Duo asked, tossing a piece of dried fruit to Quatre. He ate quickly, still focused on packing.

After both boys were packed and had their weapons at the ready lest something attack them again, Quatre wrote a short note to the kind widow who had housed them, thanking her for all she had done.

The two raced out their door into the bright afternoon, and Duo could see Solo and another, slightly larger dragon, waiting for them.

"Solo!" Even though Solo was always connected to him, without seeing the dragon Duo felt as if a part of him were missing. A dragon and it's rider were meant to be together.

Hopping onto his dragon, Duo reached an arm down to help Quatre on in front of him. They secured their supplies behind Duo, and Iria sat off to the side. Quatre had told Duo that she meant to fly on her own, and Duo could see determination seeping off of the smaller dragon in waves.

"Ready, Mr. Pointy-ears?" He called over to Trowa. The silent elf chose not to dignify that with a response. The assassin was once again tied, bound to the brown dragon's long neck. His blue eyes glared at Duo, searing his soul, and Duo childishly stuck his tongue out at the monster who almost killed his little brother. For one instant though, those blue eyes seemed beautiful, and Duo nearly flushed.

He shook his head, a bad habit he had developed, and it hit Quatre in the head. "Hey!" Quatre chastised him. Playfully, he ruffled Quatre's blonde hair.

Without warning, both Trowa's dragon and Solo took to the air, Iria following, flapping her wings quickly to keep up. Both the older dragons seemed to see this and slowed down slightly, though he doubted that Quatre or Iria noticed, and when he saw the nearly tangible pride radiating from them, he hadn't the heart to tell them.

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Trowa sighed when he finally landed. They had been flying for hours, and their dragons, especially Iria, were tiring quickly. Hopping down from his dragon with inhuman grace, Trowa landed without any sounds.

Turning towards his captive, he untied the bonds that held him to Middie, and watched with a cruel satisfaction as Heero dropped to the ground.

'_You can rest now Middie,'_Trowa assured her. With a quick goodnight, Middie curled up and fell asleep.

He heard a rustling in the grass and turned to see Duo stretching as he walked towards him, Quatre following behind, also yawning. Both Iria and Solo were already snoring, and Trowa allowed himself a moment to stare at his new allies. His moment of distraction was all Heero needed.

Trowa didn't realize what was happening until he hit the ground. Heero took off at a fast run, heading away from the clearing into the forest.

"Oh no you don't!" Duo leapt over his fallen form, chasing after the retreating fire spirit. Despite the spirit's fast pace, Duo was faster, running at such speeds that for a moment Trowa forgot he was human.

Trowa suddenly found himself being tugged off the ground by an insistent blonde. Getting to his feet, Trowa burst into movement, slowly catching up with Heero and Duo, Quatre trailing behind him.

Suddenly, Duo tackled Heero, sending them both sprawling to the ground. For one hopeful second, Trowa thought that Duo had won and Heero's flight was over, but Heero flipped the young man, forcing him onto his hands and knees and using his braid as a garrote.

Trowa watched in horror as the man he insisted live choked one of his allies. Duo scrambled to grab his braid, but Heero's grip on it was firm. Then in a blonde streak, Quatre dashed past him, screaming the other boy's name.

"Duo! You murderer, get off of Duo!" Then to his amazement, powerful magic gathered around the blonde as he shouted one of the words of magic.

"_AGUA!"_

In a powerful flash of white, water was dumped all over the fire spirit and his prey. Heero, being especially weak against water attacks, fell to the ground, shaking violently.

Duo scrambled away, soaked to the bone but alive, and twisted on top of the assassin, securely pinning him to the ground.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Trowa watched as Quatre sunk to his knees, breathing heavily. His face was flushed a light pink, and his eyes were half lidded as he fell onto his back, arms spread above his head. He looked…_Beautiful._

Trowa swiftly redirected his view to Duo and Heero, quickly repressing his thoughts about the blonde. After realizing that Heero was unconscious, he ran towards the pair, lifting Duo off of the man, and carried the lifeless assassin back into the main part of the clearing. Duo met him there, extra rope in his arms. They bound Heero securely, lying him by the fire. Already, the fire in his veins was drying him, and turning to Duo, he found that he was already stripping off his clothing. His lips were an unhealthy blue.

"You will get warmer faster if you sleep with Heero, the assassin," Trowa informed him, remembering that Duo didn't know Heero's name. It was true. Fire spirits were even warmer than dragons. Duo looked revolted, but as another shiver wracked his body, he snuggled against Heero, clad only in his boxers. He had the temperament of someone who was being lowered into a pit of snakes, not that Trowa could blame him.

Resting a hand on the assassin's forehead, he decided on a spell that would keep the boy from waking until Trowa decided it was necessary.

"_Duermas."_

With their threat unconscious and Duo warm, Trowa focused his attention on Quatre. The blonde was still where he collapsed, but that was understandable. For a Rider to draw his first magic was extremely stressful to the body, and it had probably exhausted the new Rider.

Strolling over to the blonde, Trowa was surprised when Quatre spoke. "Isn't the night sky beautiful?" He asked, gazing at the stars.

Quatre's voice was a soft, light tenor, slightly feminine, with a pristine accent. Trowa turned to him, not answering. The starlight sparkled in his eyes, making him look like a small child.

Trowa turned away from him, wondering why he gazed at the stars. To Trowa, stars represented wishes that were too far away to grasp, and foolish desires that took away from living.

"They're just stars," he replied, still averting his gaze from the blonde.

"And isn't that what makes them so beautiful?" Quatre asked. To him, stars were just dots of light in the sky, but to this boy, they were obviously something magical.

"…" Trowa didn't really have any response to that.


	4. Divide and Conquer

-1Hmmm… I might need to change the rating after this chapter, just to be safe.

Thanks for the reviews, love you all!

Disclaimer: See chapter one

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Duo felt warm. He was very comfortable, which was a feeling that he didn't get too often. It wasn't that he was picky about his surroundings, but the people around him, the ones who made him comfortable, had an annoying habit of dying.

Avoiding such mellow thoughts in his early stages of consciousness, Duo sighed as he attempted to fall back asleep. Snuggling into the warmth, he imagined that maybe Solo had come to warm him up. His hand reached around the other entity, and he felt smooth cloth beneath his fingertips. Solo didn't wear clothes, did he?

Quatre then. Burying his face into the crook of Quat's neck-_since when have I been short enough to do that?_- he wrapped an arm around a waist, one that while narrow, didn't have the same slight curve to it as Quatre's.

Urghhh… Did it really matter? Were Quat's hips so important that they possessed him with a need to awaken even earlier?

Lifting a lazy head, he half opened a violet eye, turning his head and gazing up into midnight blue eyes.

Blue eyes. Quat had blue eyes. They were light, innocent, and airy, making him look like one of the angels painted in the church. It was too bad that particular angel deserved a set of horns, rather than a halo.

Wait, if Quat had light blue eyes, and whomever he was clinging to had dark blue eyes. Duo was confused. While part of his sleep muddled mind attempted to decipher the difficult concept that no, dark blue eyes + tallness+ narrow hips did not equal Quat, the other, more straight forward part wanted to know who he was wrapped around, if it wasn't his blonde buddy.

_His blue eyes glared at Duo, searing his soul…_

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" SMACK

From the look Heero-, that was his name, right? - was giving him, Duo decided that he was extremely happy the potentially dangerous teen was subdued by ropes and a gag.

Duo stood up, a sudden draft of cold air catching his attention. He looked down and realized that he was only clad in his boxers. Ruffling through his bags, he quickly extracted a shirt and a pair of pants. Quickly pulling them on, he stepped into his now dry boots, all the while slipping his arms through the sleeves of his priest jacket. Duo's cross gleamed in the silver light while Duo buttoned, strapped, and tied his outfit.

"You-you…you…" Duo could not even find the proper words to describe his utter mortification. He could feel heat in his cheeks; they were probably as red as Heero's sweet, thin, cherry lips. Lips that were set onto a perfectly shaped face with an even tan.

Nevertheless, one must remember not to digress, and Duo shook his head, attempting to stay on the topic at hand. How did he end up in that monster's arms?

Well, it was more like the monster had been in his arms, since a coil of rope bound said monster's arms, henceforth, it was unlikely they could wrap around anything…

"Infuriating bastard!" Ahh… Duo had temporarily sated his anger.

'_Infuriating bastard, now wasn't that original?' _Solo was chuckling in his head. Duo chose not to dignify that with a response.

"Can't say anything back to the amazing Duo, can you?" Duo asked, smirking at his opponent. Solo roared with laughter in the back of his head, while Heero's glare intensified.

'_He can't really say anything with a gag on, can he?' _Damn it, Solo strikes again. This left the score at Solo: more than can be counted, Duo: zero.

Leaning down to Heero's level, Duo proceeded to tell the assassin exactly what he thought of him.

5 Minutes later

"…And if you ever attempt to hurt one of my friend's ever again, I will hunt you down and-"

'_Talk him to death?' _Solo asked, feigning innocence.

'_Whose side are you on, anyways?' _Duo mentally shouted at Solo.

"Kill you…" he trailed off, rather lamely. He was off lately. All that time spent with goody-two-shoes like Quatre had destroyed his ability to insult anyone properly.

"Tell me, do you fight like you talk, or has the noble art of warfare been spared the injustice?"

Nervously, Duo glanced around the clearing they had come to. It was rather large, and Duo couldn't see any of the Dragons. Quatre and Trowa had vanished as well, which was surprising since the blonde was not a morning person and it was still well before noon. A weak fire still glowed in the morning sun.

There were only three people in the entire valley: him, Heero, and a mysterious boy, dressed completely in red and gold. He wore his jet-black hair in a tight ponytail. In his right arm was an Eastern style sword.

_A katana, if I remember correctly…_

In the past, he had only seen a weapon like this once, and he remembered, even now, the sharpness of the blade.

'The only injustice I see is in your poor sense of fashion!" Duo taunted, internally calling to Solo.

"Kisama!" The stranger shouted, waving his katana around. "How dare you insult the noble robes of my people! Injustice!"

Once again, Duo called to Solo, and once again, there was no response. _Where is he? _Duo wondered. _Is he hurt?_

"Your little pet cannot reach us here. I daresay he has plenty of company to keep him occupied." The other teenager narrowed black, almond shaped eyes, smirking arrogantly at his opponent. Heero hovered in the background, and Duo eyed him warily. Were he and the 'injustice' boy on the same side?

Seeing the way Heero glared at him, Duo suspected they did not get along. Suddenly, the flame in the fire pit went out, and Duo watched in mixed horror and amazement as Heero's gag and bounds burnt, a bright fire incinerating them, the burnt pieces falling to the ground. Duo was so amazed that he almost missed another phenomena; no smoke floated away from this magical fire.

Slowly standing, Heero flexed his muscles and straightened, rising to his full height, which was rather intimidating despite the fact that he was barely taller than Duo. Something about the way he carried himself made it seem that he was taller than the highest mountain.

"Hey, if you could do that all along, why didn't you try it earlier?" Duo shrieked angrily.

"Hn."

"Yuy, you do realize that I've been sent here to kill you as well. You know better than any one of us that we can't afford to fail missions." Heero gazed emotionlessly at the red-garbed boy.

Duo gazed from boy to boy, slightly perturbed. Drawing his daggers from his sheaths, he stood at the ready, prepared to fight back if it came to that.

The boy lunged, not at Duo but Heero, who leapt to the side, a small cut on his right arm. Duo felt an unreasonable anger swell inside of him. He hated the assassin, but at the same time, Heero had nothing to defend himself with when the other boy attacked. It was not a fair fight! Duo fingered one of his daggers nervously. Should he even the odds?

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Earlier that morning…

Quatre sighed as he unfurled himself from a light blanket. The rising sun had woken him from his peaceful slumber, irritatingly enough. This far down south, winter was more like summer, but the nights were still frigid cold. Stretching, Quatre ran a hand through his hair, catching it on the tangled, oily, blonde hair.

"I need a bath," Quatre sighed, a yawn escaping his mouth.

'_There's a stream right outside the clearing, by Middie,' _a masculine voice told him. Quatre jumped, temporarily startled.

'_Thanks Solo!' _Quatre replied in earnest, gathering a change of clothes, a towel, and cleaning supplies for his bath. Glancing over to a sleeping Duo, he noticed that he had wrapped himself around the assassin.

_It that had been Duo and anyone else it would be horribly cute. As it is, I do not want to be here when either of them wakes up._

Quatre walked through the lush grass of the clearing, but paused as he passed Middie. He had never thought much about the gift that enabled him to understand what all of the other dragons were saying, even when they tried to block him out, but then again, he had never had anyone to ask. Perhaps Trowa would know?

Luckily, it wasn't that important since it worked at a distance. If he was any further than half a mile away from either Solo or Middie, he couldn't hear them. With Iria though, there were virtually no limitations.

Walking past Middie to the edge of the clearing, he brushed past some of the smaller trees into the forest. There, on the edge of the forest was the small stream, and Quatre could hear the peaceful sound of running water. A small overhang, carved by time, was the only way to get in, and Quatre set all of his belongings there. It was only about a foot higher than the deep stream, so it was the perfect place for a shelf.

Slipping off his dirty clothes, he sank into the cool, clear water. The clear, clean, water came up to his chest. The temperature was perfect, not too warm, but not icy either. Pouring some shampoo into his hair, he scrubbed, rinsing away days worth of dirt and grime. It was so nice to be clean!

_This place is so peaceful, _he thought contentedly. Closing his eyes, he willed himself not to think, and just enjoy the beautiful weather. The water splashed and rippled with his every movement, gurgling as it traveled downstream, birds hummed and chirped over his head, a symphony of motion in nature.

Shivering slightly, he climbed out of the stream, towel drying his sopping hair. It hung messily over his face, and Quatre attempted to blow his bangs out of his face as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

Holding the towel to make sure that it didn't fall down his slim waist- he didn't want to traumatize the poor innocent animals- Quatre gathered his clothes in an almost dry hand.

Quickly pulling his clothes on, he gazed at his reflection in the quaint little stream as he ran a brush through his hair. The white pants Duo had picked out for him hung to his every curve and crevice, ending at his wicker sandals. A baggy navy blue shirt tucked in to said pants, the short sleeves only covering his shoulders.

Suddenly, another person appeared in his reflection. Quatre jumped, startled, tripped over a root, and fell into the stream. Glaring at the figure in front of him, he shivered. For some reason, the water felt much colder this time around. His clean clothes were soaked, and he had just finished drying off before he fell!

Trowa only held out a hand to him, a tiny smile gracing his normally stoic features.

_Oh, he finds this amusing, does he?_ Mentally, Quatre cackled maniacally, but physically he only gave Trowa a smile so sweet and innocent that if Duo had seen it, he would have run for the hills.

After all, an angelic Quatre was a scheming Quatre, and a scheming Quatre was dangerous.

Taking Trowa's hand in both of his, he tugged as hard as he could. The normally graceful elf toppled into the water, a wonderful look of absolute shock on his face.

Quatre clutched his stomach and held a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to muffle his giggles. Trowa surfaced, gasping for air, his visible eye wide. His odd hair stuck to one side of his face, and his clothes clung to him like a second skin.

Quatre giggled, wading closer to him. The water rippled from Quatre's movement, along with Trowa falling in. The overlapping ripples distorted the two boys' reflections, mixing them together and pulling them apart before the weak current dragged them away.

Quatre pushed Trowa's hair away, brushing the soggy cinnamon colored mess behind one elfin ear. Quatre's bangs had once again flopped into his face, but he ignored them in favor of Trowa.

Pulling his hand back, Quatre's hand lightly brushed the taller boy's face, and the feeling of his smooth skin sent a surge of electricity through the blonde.

"I'm sorry," Quatre muttered, his gaze still drawn to Trowa.

"For what?" The elf asked, his smooth voice sending shivers down Quatre's spine.

"I don't know…" Quatre blushed, a deep pink, the color of Uetersen roses. They stood in silence for a moment, and Quatre memorized Trowa's face. His deep green eyes were more beautiful than any emerald, thin pink lips pulled up into a tiny, nearly invisible, smile. He had tan skin, and a straight nose. He had high cheekbones, almost feminine, and a strong jaw.

Just as Quatre was finishing his mental recollection, a giant splash hit him straight in the face. Eyes wide, his mouth opening and closing in silence, likening him to a fish, Quatre stared at the stoic elf.

'_Someone needed to cool off the fire on your face!' _A mischievous sounded, amused. Quatre turned, dripping, to Middie, who had stuck her head into the brush. Apparently, she had used her huge head to splash water on the pair of them, since there was no way the rest of her would fit.

When what she said actually reached Quatre, his blush increased tenfold. Turning away from Trowa, he took deep breath's, concentrating on getting rid of that horrible blush.

Finally, he turned, watching to see Trowa already on the bank, shaking his hair out like a dog. Quatre pulled himself up, squeezing the water out of his once baggy shirt. Un-tucking it in hopes that it might dry faster, Quatre ignored the fact that both the shirt and his pants clung to him like a second skin. It was warm out, and it would only take about an hour before they dried.

Pulling his pack over his shoulder, he walked on squishy sandals back into camp. Setting his things down, he pulled out his scimitars and a leather belt to hang them on. Pulling the belt though the loopholes in his pants, Quatre pushed the scimitars through their straps. Because of their curved shape, they would not fit into sheaths like Duo's daggers.

Rummaging through Duo's pack, he pulled out a few pieces of dried fruit and meat. Chewing on them thoughtfully, he folded his dirty clothes and placed them back in his bag. His fingers paused as they hit cloth pulled tightly over wood.

Slowly and carefully, Quatre pulled out a bulky black case. He hadn't played any music for a long time, and his fingers were itching to play one of his familiar tunes. Duo loved his music, and Quatre sighed, wondering when his friend would wake up.

'_We're going hunting,' _Iria announced. Quatre merely nodded, stroking the side of Iria's face as she, Solo, and Middie took off into the morning sky.

Quatre's fingers stroked the smooth wood of his violin, wondering when the next time he could play it would be. Sighing, he finished his last piece of fruit, turning to Trowa.

Said elf was leaning against a tree that bordered the clearing. The tree was old and worn, but still beautiful, and it reminded him of Trowa. Elves lived extremely long lives, to the point of being immortal, and Quatre wondered how old Trowa was.

He had probably been alive much longer than Quatre, and he would probably live much longer than Quatre. Walking over to the elf, Quatre sat down, a weak clank resounding where the scimitars hit the wood. And if elves lived that long, how long did dragons live? Would Iria die in a few years, leaving Quatre to outlive her, or would Quatre die on her?

"How long do Dragons live?" Quatre asked, knowing that the silent elf wouldn't be the one to start any conversation.

Trowa leaned back, revealing a long neck, pausing before he answered. "No one knows how long a free dragon lives, but a dragon lives for as long as it's rider."

Quatre's eyes widened. Did that mean Middie was virtually immortal, while Iria only had a few decades left?

"But then they only live for a few decades if they're bound to a human!" Quatre protested, looking to Trowa.

"No, because when a being binds himself to a dragon, he becomes immortal." Quatre paused for a second, trying to digest that information. He was immortal? That was impossible. Humans were never meant to live forever.

"That's impossible," Quatre murmured, his face lowering to the roots of the ancient tree. If he were immortal, he would see so many wars, and so many deaths… No human was meant to do that, and Quatre did not think he could either.

"How old are you?" He asked Trowa, not caring if he were being rude. It really didn't matter right now.

"I'm 93 years old," Trowa answered, his face blank. He was still looking at the leaves of the trees above him, as if Quatre didn't even matter.

"Oh," Quatre sighed, leaning against the tree. Being bound to Iria gave him a lot of power, but with power came responsibility, and Quatre didn't know how to handle that.

"Is Iria the reason why I could do magic?" he asked, remembering the last night, where he had summoned water to help Duo.

Trowa nodded. "Can you teach me how to use that magic?" Quatre asked again, and once again, Trowa nodded.

"Thank you," Quatre told him, pulling him into a friendly hug. He wrapped his arms around Trowa, settling his head on his chest, by his heart.

Abruptly, he felt a sting in his neck, and everything started to become blurry. Turning his head up towards Trowa, he saw that the elf's face was clear among everything else. The elf was supporting him with one arm, and the hand of his other arm held a small, empty dart.

"Shit," Trowa cursed, as Quatre's world started to turn sideways and blur into brown and black. He could hear each thump of Trowa's heart as it beat a fast, frantic rhythm.

Yep, shit seemed to be the right word for this situation. Quatre felt himself slipping from Trowa's grasp, but there was nothing he could do about it. His limbs were weak with sudden fatigue as the world disappeared around him.

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Trowa stopped Quatre from falling, bringing the small dart to his nose and inhaling its vial scent. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Trowa realized that it was a weak poison, commonly used as a sedative. That in itself confused Trowa. Were these people out to kill them?

'_Middie,'_ he called out, pulling himself into the brush and watching as two more darts hit the spot he was just in. There was no reply, but Trowa felt worry and fear from his mental link with her.

_Whoever is attacking us had this all planned. Divide and conquer huh?_

Slinging Quatre over his shoulder, the one opposite of his arrows, Trowa drew his short sword. There were no footsteps around him, and he could not hear any more darts or arrows. Racing through the forest, Trowa extended his aura, feeling around with magical fingers for anyone strange.

Quickly, Trowa released Heero from his sleep spell, as well as a magic binding spell he had put on him earlier. He would need all of his magic to face his invisible opponents.

When he could not feel anyone around him, he set Quatre down at the base of a tree.

"_Despierte!"_

Quatre's eyes popped open as he awakened, struggling to his feet.

"Come," Trowa ordered, grasping the sleepy boy by the arm and pulling him along.

"Duo!" Quatre called, now awake. "Where's Duo?" Trowa didn't answer him. Instead, he paused, not budging when Quatre ran into his back, toppling backwards. In front of them was a girl, most likely oriental. She wore her hair in two pigtails, and she was dressed in robes of red and gold silk. Her large almond eyes narrowed at the sight of the two riders. However, she wasn't what stopped Trowa.

Behind her was Dorothy, an elf from the village. Granddaughter to Dermail, an elf who had been exiled because of his lust for war, Dorothy was cruel, and not a good person to make your enemy. Everyone knew her long blonde hair, blue eyes, and forked eyebrows, and she was often in trouble with the elders for starting fights.

In her arms, tied, with tears streaming down her face was Catherine, Trowa's half sister. Her blue eyes pleaded with Trowa to run, but Trowa froze in place, staring at the three of them.

"Trowa Barton, we meet again. Drop your weapons immediately, or sister dearest gets it."

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Heero glared at Wufei, dodging attack after attack. This was hopeless. Using magic was not even plausible unless he broke into Wufei's mind, but prying into Wufei's mind without anything to distract him was like trying to dig through solid rock with a toothpick: not very likely.

"Catch!" The annoying braided baka's voice caught his attention, and he caught the dagger right before it hit him in the head. The dagger was longer than most, and very sharp. Whoever made it was skilled indeed.

Wufei swung at him again, and Heero dodged, returning the attack with a swipe from his new weapon, smirking when he heard it cut through Wufei's flesh. Wufei backed off, clutching his cut arm with an enraged look on his face.

"Why?" Heero turned towards Duo, wondering why the boy chose to give him one of his weapons.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?" Duo asked, smirking. Heero smirked back, and as one, they lunged at their opponent.

Wufei dodged, flipping towards Duo. Heero sliced at his back, distracting the Chinese teen for long enough for the braided boy to regain his footing, and Wufei lunged at him instead. Heero balanced his weight, catching Wufei's katana with his dagger. A kick knocked Wufei to the ground, and Heero turned to see Duo with his leg extended.

A look of shock crossed Wufei's face as he stumbled, and Heero grinned. Closing his eyes, Heero plunged past Wufei's mental barriers into the recesses of his mind. Wufei's memories flashed past his eyes, but Heero ignored them, filtering them and pushing them to the back of his mind. He needed to concentrate.

Invading someone's mind in order to predict their moves was common practice in magical duels. If a duelist could break into his opponents mind, he could avoid their strikes and spells. However, what most people didn't know was that the duelist who broke into his advisories mind had to see their memories, relive their lives, and handle a lifetime of pain in an instant. It was enough to drive most men and women insane. For Heero, filtering the memories and ignoring them was child's play.

Wufei got to his feet, glaring at Heero. _Right kick, _Heero's mind told him, and he stepped backwards, causing Wufei's kick to miss him completely.

_He's going to lunge at my left side with his katana, _and true to form, Wufei did. Heero dodged it, ramming his elbow into Wufei's back and shoving him to the ground.

Not concentrating on anything else besides Wufei, what move Wufei was going to use next, and filtering Wufei's memories, he ignored Duo's look of stunned shock and Wufei's glare of anger.

_Run away,_ Heero took after Wufei as he ran; preparing to kill him, but strong arms on his shoulders stopped him. He was jerked backwards, and his concentration was destroyed, sending him reeling as he was forced from Wufei's mind.

"Dude, are you OK?" Duo asked him, and Heero realized he must have passed out in the other boy's arms.

Heero nodded, and Duo dropped him on the ground, turning towards the bags in the middle of their campsite. "QUATRE!" He shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

"SOLO! QUATRE! IRIA! TROWA! WHERE ARE YOU?" Heero's sensitive ears ached in protest to Duo's loud shouting, and he felt lucky he was not an elf, because they had much better hearing.

"SOLO… QUATRE… SOLO!" Duo dropped to the ground, and Heero could smell tears gathering in Duo's violet eyes. Sighing, he pushed himself off the ground and walked over to the sobbing boy.

"Get away from me!" Duo shouted, shoving Heero to the ground.

_Now I'm eating dirt, again._

"I can't." Heero was almost surprised at the admission he had just made. Turning to Duo, he looked into confused, violet eyes.

"You saved my life by giving me a weapon and helping me to fight Wufei. I am obligated by the laws of my tribe to help you in some way. Because of that, I cannot leave your side until my debt to you is repaid."

Duo narrowed his eyes at Heero's explanation. "How will I know when your debt is repaid?" He asked suspiciously.

Grabbing Duo's right hand, he examined the skin on the back of his hand. Usually, the mark was carved into the palm of the receiver's hand, but because Duo was a rider, his dragon already marked his palm.

"This will hurt a little bit," Heero told him. Gathering heat from the air around him, he forced it into the dagger until it was red hot.

"Hey!" Duo exclaimed, "you're crazy if ya think you're touching me with-" he was cut off as Heero sliced the skin of his hand with the dagger. Working quickly, Heero carved the pattern of his tribe into Duo's hand, ignoring the boy's gasps of pain. It was a flame, for the tribe's fire ability, wrapped around a sword, for their strength.

As soon as he finished, an identical pattern formed on the back of his left hand. Heero ignored the pain radiating from his hand, focusing on Duo. The boy was gazing at his hand with steady, if confused, eyes.

As soon as the mark was finished, both wounds healed, leaving only the scars as evidence. Heero took Duo's right hand in his left, forcing the braided boy to face him.

"When the mark on your hand fades, I am out of your debt. Until then, I am bound to you, a servant who must cater to your every need."

Heero handed Duo his dagger, and the teen Rider slipped it into its sheath. Their eyes locked, and Heero dropped Duo's hand. He had a feeling that it was going to take him a long time to repay his debt.

For some reason, gazing into those violet eyes, he did not mind that fact at all.


	5. Treize and Relena

-1Slowly and carefully, with his eyes never leaving Dorothy, Trowa set his short sword, bow, and quiver of arrows on the ground. Rising from his crouch, he pulled himself to his full height, glaring at the elf.

"You too," Dorothy instructed, waving her rapier at Quatre. Quatre obeyed immediately, and Trowa nearly cringed as he heard the blonde's scimitars hit the ground. Motioning to the Chinese girl, Dorothy grinned.

"Tie them up," she ordered, her smile wicked. The pigtailed girl spun around, glaring at her.

"I am not your servant! If you want them tied up, do it yourself!" She exclaimed, and Trowa heard a soft giggle from Quatre. The sound was light and airy, completely the opposite of their situation. A small smile graced his features at the sound, though he had no idea why.

Unfortunately, for the two of them, Dorothy heard it as well. Narrowing her eyes at Quatre, she smirked at him.

"_Sufras!" _Dorothy yelled, and Trowa's eyes widened in shock.

While he should've expected something like that from Dorothy, it was still against the law to use magic to harm another being. All elves learned these spells, but unless an elf was in danger, they were never used.

Staring at the blonde laying on the ground, jerking in pain, Trowa narrowed his eyes. His screams echoed through the forest, burning Trowa ears. Birds flew from their nests, attempting in vain to escape the sounds of another creature in pain. Quatre had no idea how to use his magic, and he had already discarded his weapons.

"_Cállate!" _Dorothy shouted, her hands covering her ears, and Quatre quieted immediately, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Trowa sincerely hoped that he had only bitten his tongue.

_Did she torture Catherine like this as well? _Trowa wondered to himself. If Dorothy did, Trowa would kill her.

Trowa called mentally for Middie, watching as Quatre let out a weak, strangled gasp before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Shivers wracked his body, the whites of his eyes gleaming against his red, feverish, skin. His hair fell around him, the clean strands dirtied by dirt, leaves, and sticks.

Trowa averted his gaze from the blonde by another teen walking into their small clearing. He was bloody, stumbling along. He was also Chinese, and he seemed to know the pigtailed girl.

"Meiran! What are you doing here! This isn't a woman's job!" The boy's face was red from rage, and he was dragging himself along, a hand clutching his upper left arm.

Meiran smirked. "I do believe I did better than you, husband dearest. After all, I have my hostages, and you do not. Where is your pride?"

Trowa watched his enemies carefully. Their mutual dislike for each other could be useful to his escape plan. Suddenly, Wufei turned towards him, and held out his hand.

A shimmering white palm glared at him with an angry gleam.

"_Despierta!" _He yelled, and Trowa didn't even have time to launch a counter spell. The last thing he thought before he fell into a deep, magic induced sleep was:

_He's a rider!_

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Heero sniffed the air, picking up the strong scent of a human in the forest. His mind recognized it almost instantly as Quatre, the blonde who was part of Duo's traveling group. Taking off at a sprint in that direction, he watched from the corner of his eyes as Duo followed him.

Heero smirked. For a human, running at the speed Duo was traveling at was unheard of, and Heero wondered if it was a side effect of him being a rider, or experiences that allowed him his agility.

Heero half hoped it was because of him being a rider; he did not want to think that Duo had ever been made to run from anyone.

Bursting into a clearing, he nearly tripped over a set of scimitars that were scattered across the ground.

"_Hielo," _a voice spoke, oddly calm for launching an attack. It was feminine, cold, and laced with pride and just a hint of arrogance. It reminded Heero of Wufei.

_Meiran, we meet again._

Heero leapt out of the way, just as ice materialized where he had been standing. Reaching into the familiar part of his mind where he kept his magic, he readied it for use. _"Fuego!" _Heero shouted, destroying the ice barrier that had formed when the spell activated.

The roaring fire melted her barrier, and she shrieked in pain as a small waterfall rained down upon her. Being half fire spirit, she was nearly as susceptible to water attacks as he was.

"Damn you Heero!" She screamed, drawing heat from the air to dry her soaking clothing and hair.

Using her hair as a sling, she flung water at Heero, glaring as he flipped out of the way into a near tree. His breath rose into steam, and Heero shivered at the Meiran induced cold.

Without heat, he couldn't use any of his magic. He could draw more heat from the air, but the frigid temperatures would kill Meiran and Duo, as well as himself. Since Meiran was half elf, she had no such barriers.

"_Pare!" _She screamed, and Heero froze, all movement zapped from his body. He couldn't even pull his face into its signature glare.

"_Agua," _she muttered, grinning victoriously at Heero.

"Watch out!" A voice hoarse voice warned, pushing Heero to the ground and out of the way of the huge flow of water that might have killed him. A few droplets hit him, but they could not harm anyone as strong as him.

Meiran smirked, taking off into the forest. Heero tried to follow her, but the spell bound him, leaving him temporarily unable to move. Duo's hand was cold against Heero's bare leg, far too cold. He could hear the shiver wracking the boy's body, proof of the blow that he had taken to save Heero's life once again.

_Stupid boy, _Heero thought, waiting for the effects of Meiran's spell to vanish.

_I am supposed to be the one saving his life._

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When Quatre awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he couldn't move his arms. The second sensation that his tired mind registered was pain. There was unbearable pain on every inch of his body. It felt as if stabbing knives had pulverized his legs and arms, and his torso ached as if someone had hit him repeatedly with a sledgehammer.

His mind was clear, but that only allowed him to drown in the pain inflicted to the rest of his body.

Slowly, his eyes came into the focus, adjusting to the weak firelight in the room, and he gasped at what he saw. A skeleton smiled at him from the other side of the room, a large, furry, black spider peering out at him from one eye socket, chunks of rotting flesh inhabited by bugs and a large white rat.

Quatre barfed, the remains of his last meal falling down his shirt and landing at his feet. As the rat and its family scurried towards him, eager to try the new feast, Quatre struggled against the bounds holding his arms and legs holding him in place, several inches above the ground. There were almost no chains, just shackles attached to the wall.

The majority of the weight was on his arms, and Quatre could feel the cold metal of his bonds scraping against his thin wrists.

_Where am I? _Quatre asked himself, eyes wide from pain and fear. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, a sickly red flush on his cheeks. His clothes clung to him, twisting with him as he frantically tried to escape.

The last thing Quatre could remember was talking with Trowa, and the sound of his heartbeat against his ears.

_Where is Trowa?_ Quatre glanced around, finding the elf nowhere in the room. The rat finished its feast, and apparently still hungry, climbed up his leg. Through his pants, Quatre could feel the rat's claws digging into his shins, and his breath caught in his throat.

Struggling, he attempted to shake the rat off his shin, but it clung onto his pants, continually climbing. Its beady red eyes glinted in the near darkness, almost glowing, and Quatre renewed his struggles, ignoring the pain in his wrists as the shackles chafed his wrists, or the pain running through his body from his continued movement.

Tears of agony threatened to spill from Quatre's eyes, but he held them in, looking up to see if there was any way to escape from them.

Short of chopping off his hands, there wasn't.

He would not cry. Tears were for people who had given up on life. He had cried before, but then he had met Duo and Solo and Iria and Trowa and Middie.

_I will escape. I cannot allow myself to forget that. I refuse to be trapped!_

As if in response to his internal determination, a part of Quatre's mind seemed to dissolve, allowing his magic to flow through him, empowering him.

"_Agua!" _Quatre screamed, and water flowed over his body. The rat desperately tried to cling on, but it slammed into the ground. It landed on the stone floor, and Quatre heard a sickening crack as its neck broke. Its family scurried away, Quatre vomit washed clean from the floor.

A sudden feeling of weariness fell upon Quatre, intensified by the pain in his body. Quatre ignored it, glaring at the skeleton across from him, slowly rotting.

"A_…_" His voice was weak. The flow of magic through his body was still noticeable, though nowhere near as powerful it was a few seconds ago.

"_Abra!" _Though it was meant as an exclamation, it came out as a hoarse whisper. Quatre was unsure of where the word came from, because he was sure he had never heard it before, but as the weight on his wrists and legs disappeared, and Quatre landed on two unsteady feet, he realized he didn't care.

The chained entrance to his cage creaked open, and Quatre stumbled towards it, leaning against the iron bars for support.

Walking out, he closed the door as quietly as possible. Then he heard footsteps.

_Someone must have heard me!_

Hiding in a shadowed outcropping created by a disturbing statue of a vampire with its fangs latched onto an innocent woman's neck, Quatre held his breath, waiting for whomever it was to pass.

The seconds stretched into hours as each tap of the man's foot against the cement echoed in his ears. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest that Quatre was sure the man would hear it. Each breath, though stifled by his hand, seemed as loud as a scream to him. His world momentarily turned sideways, but Quatre refused to allow himself to pass out.

The man came into view, and Quatre struggled in vain to become one with the wall. The man was tall, with broad shoulders. He was wearing all black, and his short red hair revealed a cultured, aristocratic features.

The man paused, right by Quatre, and the blonde held his breath. He sniffed the air, and turned towards Quatre. Quatre's eyes widened as the man smiled at him, revealing sharp, vampire teeth.

"Hello, Quatre."

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Duo picked himself up off of Heero, stumbling backwards, shivering. Slowly, Heero picked himself up, slowly wiping dirt off of himself.

_Why did I do that? _Duo asked, wrapping himself with his arms. His braid was limp and dripping, and the cold air didn't help.

Watching as Heero plucked a leaf from his hopelessly messed hair, he stumbled backwards, confused at a sudden onslaught of emotions far too familiar. They were emotions he had only felt around Hilde.

Duo yelped as he tumbled to the ground, a gash in his ankle. Cringing, Duo looked at what had caused him to fall. A pair of gleaming silver scimitars, curved into an 's' caught his eyes. They were Quatre's blades.

Shivering and transfixed on the scimitars, Duo didn't notice as Heero examined his ankle. He barely felt a blanket of warmth cover him as Heero started a fire with two sticks; using the warmth it generated to dry him. He barely noticed the cool, tingling feeling in his ankle as Heero healed it.

All he could see were those scimitars. Had they taken Quatre? Was… Was Quatre dead?

The image of Hilde, dead in his arms, superimposed itself over the scimitars. Duo didn't notice anything, not even the single tear that spilled from his eye.

He did notice, however, the large red eyes of Solo. "Solo," he gasped, tumbling into a clumsy embrace with his dragon's neck.

'_It's OK Duo,' _the dragon told him in a soothing mental voice.

'_They're not dead, Duo, they've just been captured.' _Duo felt a wave of relief spill over him at that fact, and an even bigger one as a small dragon licked his face.

"Iria!" He started, hugging the dragon as it clung to him. If Iria was okay, than he was sure, no, positive, that Quatre was fine.

'_Quatre, Trowa, and Middie have been taken to a small castle west of here,' _Solo informed them.

"Then we have to go save them!" Duo balled his left hand into a fist, punching the air with it.

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "The two of us alone, untrained, will have no hope of going there and surviving."

Not questioning how Heero knew what he was planning, Duo pulled away from him. "What are you talking about? It's not just us! We have Solo here, if you haven't noticed! I doubt they have any dragons!"

"Wufei is a rider," Heero stated, deadly calm. "Besides that, he has far more training than you, and every single creature we will encounter in that castle will be as strong, if not stronger than me."

Duo paused, a sense of dread filling him, replacing the relief that had inhabited his heart seconds ago.

"We can't just abandon them!" Duo shouted, smacking Heero's hand away.

"And you won't have to," a familiar voice told him. Duo turned his head, instantly recognizing the redheaded Sally. The cat that Duo had seen her with before leapt from her shoulder, transforming into a woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Meet Relena Peacecraft, the last of the Peacecraft family."

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Quatre burst into movement. Pushing the man with all the strength that remained in his pained and weakened body, Quatre sprinted past him. The room spun in front of his eyes, and before he knew what was happening, the world had twisted sideways.

Coming to his senses, Quatre rolled as he hit the stone floor. An ache ricocheted through his right shoulder, but it was better than his head. Pushing himself off the ground with bleeding hands, Quatre made it three steps before the man pulled him into a deadly embrace.

Arms clamped around his mid section, pinning his arms to his side. Hot breath tickled his neck while sharp fangs teased his veins. Quatre froze, not listening to the part of him that said to struggle. If he moved even a hair's width in the wrong direction, those fangs would puncture his neck, and he would either die of end up like the one who bit him.

Neither option appealed to Quatre. An arm grabbed his, lifting it to his neck. He felt something hot and wet lick his chaffed wrist, and he suddenly felt the need to vomit hit him as he realized that the older man was _licking _him.

The tongue pulled away, and that same hot breath invaded his ear.

"You have delicious blood, Mr. Winner. I only wish that I could enjoy more of it. _Pare._"

The man pulled away, but Quatre found that he was unable to move from his position, even to run. _Is he going to kill me?_

Quatre stood, his arm still raised to his throat, barely brushing it. He could still feel the dampness of his clothes as they stuck to him, and the pain all over his body, though weaker, still radiated though every muscle in his body. He just could not move.

"Do you know who I am, Quatre?" Quatre's name rolled off the stranger's tongue in a way that would have made Quatre shiver, had he any way to shiver.

"My name is Treize Khushrenada, the leader of _el Talon del Diablo." _Where had he heard that name before? The assassin! The assassin that had been sent to kill him worked for that group!

"You might be wondering why you're still alive, but worry not. I was curious when I discovered that there was still a Winner around. I was friends with the family before I became this." Stepping in front of Quatre, he waved to signify his obviously appearance.

"Never mind that." He stepped closer to Quatre, looking him over. "I can see and smell that you're in dire need of a bath and a fresh change of clothing." With a wave of his hand, Quatre found himself with the ability to move again. Instead of bolting as he thought he would, Quatre stood there, shivering in the hallway of the dungeons.

"Zechs, why don't you show our guest, Mr. Winner, to the bathing area." It was a demand, cleverly hidden as a request.

Out of the shadows, a tall man stepped towards him. A long mane of hair flowed down his back, but a huge metallic mask covered his face. The only feature that Quatre could make out were sharp blue eyes and pointed ears.

"Come with me," the man commanded, his voice flat. Treize smiled, and vanished into the shadows.

Quatre followed the man obediently through the dungeon, his gaze on the walls, searching for a way escape.

"If you attempt another poorly planned excuse, believe me when I tell you I will make it impossible for you to ever walk out of this building." The threat was delivered with an air of deadly calm surrounding it. Quatre knew without question that Zechs was serious.

"Do you know where Trowa is?" Quatre asked, worried for his friend.

"Your friend is fine. You should learn that in this place, the only person you worry for is yourself."

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Trowa awoke with a yawn, stretching. _Catherine? Where is Catherine?_

Trowa gazed around the room he was in, sighing in relief when he saw Catherine in the chair by his bed.

"Hello sleepyhead," she told him, her face lined with stress. Trowa looked around the room, noting that he was lying on a hard bad. The room was small, with no furniture and two doors. One led to the outside, the other probably led to a closet.

"Are you OK?" Trowa asked her. Catherine glared at him.

"I'm doing just fine, you idiot! I cannot believe you surrendered for me! Didn't those five numbskull elders teach you anything? You're a rider, which makes you more important than my safety! Why did you surrender?"

She poked him to emphasis each word, and Trowa was sure there was going to be a bruise there in the morning. Trowa hung his head, ashamed.

"You better be ashamed. This would have never happened if you hadn't left the village in the first place. You should really leave the fighting to someone else! I don't want to lose my baby brother."

"I'm sorry Catherine," he muttered, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"You better be!" She yelled, and Trowa felt lucky that she didn't have her throwing knives with her. Elves may be able to heal quickly, but Trowa didn't feel that confident in his natural healing abilities.

"And that other boy they got! He was just a child Trowa! He probably was a good person as well. I know I wouldn't surrender myself for a complete stranger."

_Quatre!_

Trowa's head filled with memories of the blonde and his cheery blue eyes. The smile that played against his gentle features…

"He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself," Trowa interrupted, frowning.

"Don't be so sure," Catherine told him. "When they brought him here, he couldn't stop jerking. The spell Dorothy put on him wasn't meant to be used against humans. They're a fragile species, Trowa, and there could be permanent damage."

Her eyes lowered, and she played with the hem of her shirt. "They took him to the dungeons Trowa. I've never seen anyone who's gone down there come back."

_Why didn't they take me?_ Trowa wondered.

"The nasty lady, Une, sent him down there. Mr. Khushrenada was mad when he heard." Khushrenada? THE Khushrenada? It took all of his self-control to stop Trowa from allowing his eyes to widen.

A knock sounded on the door, and Meiran stepped into the room. "Mr. Khushrenada requests his presence," she explained to them.

"Where's Wufei, doesn't he usually bring the messages?" Catherine asked.

_Wufei, is that the rider? _Trowa wondered, looking at Meiran.

"Yes, well, he's being punished for failing his mission. The only reason he's not being treated like the other failures is because he's a big bad rider!" Trowa noticed this part was spoken vehemently.

"He wasn't supposed to be the rider. Everyone was sure it was going to be me! He's not even good at it! He hasn't even named his dragon yet!" She stopped, glaring at Trowa as if she had just realized she was there.

"I'm Nataku, and I'll take you to Treize." Trowa nodded, summoning his magic so he could use it quickly if needed. Nothing happened.

"Oh," she told him, "those golden rings on your wrist will stop you from communicating with your dragon or using magic. There's no way to escape this place, but Treize is a kind master, as long as you follow he rules, you'll be allowed to live."

If Trowa were one to show facial expressions, the one he would be using at that moment would be dubious. If this man were such a good 'master,' then why would he chain his people? The rings were on Meiran's, or Nataku's, wrists as well, and Trowa realized that they must only work in the castle.

"Just a warning, lady Une will be there as well, and she's not the nicest lady. Beware not to offend her; after all, this is her castle…" Meiran trailed off as she opened the door into a darkened space.

There, in the darkness, were three figures. The first, a red headed vampire, smiled at him, displaying deadly fangs. The second was a stern looking woman with her hair in two braided buns and circular glasses covering her eyes. The final figure, with golden band around his wrist, was clothed in a pure white outfit that mad him look simply angelic, even though Trowa knew better. Though he looked tired and a bit battered, he was definitely alive. Quatre smiled at him as he entered the room, and Trowa suddenly felt immensely relieved.

Slowly he sat down in the spare seat, and waited to see what Treize wanted.


	6. Lady Une's Serpents

-1Warnings: Slight 1+2/ 1/2, 5M, Treize/ Une, Zechs/Noin, and the slightest beginnings of 3+4. Also, next chapter will barely contain the Gundam Boys. It's a prequel of sorts, telling of the fall of Sanq and the Peacecrafts, as well as how The Devil's Claw began, how Treize became a vampire, and how Lady Une comes into this at all. Warnings, 13+6/ and slight13/6, future Noin/Milliardo, future Treize/Une, and slight unrequited 1R.

Disclaimer: See chapter one!

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Wufei punched the air, following through before he twisted into a kick. Holding the position momentarily, he corrected his form, sighing. He was far too distracted to practice his katas, meditate, or do anything else. Making sure there was no one else watching, he collapsed into a red and gold-garbed heap in the middle of the peaceful garden.

The only reason Treize had let him off so easily was that he had already used most of his magic to capture that meddling dragon, Middie. She was large, around a year old, though she was no match for both Wufei and his four-year-old dragon. Despite the fact that the differences between the two dragon's sizes looked the same from far away, Wufei's dragon was about two Meiran's longer than Middie, and her muscles were far more developed.

Once again, Wufei sighed. He had not asked for his dragon any more than he had asked for his marriage to that infuriating woman Meiran. Even after four years, he still had yet to name her. Nothing seemed to fit the lean, muscled dragon, not even Shenlong. His dragon had rejected each and every one of them, as though her name had to be just right. His dragon was patient with his naming process, but through the deep bond they had established, Wufei could feel her hurt.

"What are you just sitting there for? Shouldn't you be training?" The mocking, condescending tone belonged to his wife, Meiran.

He knew where this was going. They would argue, it would result in a fist fight, and he would win. It was an endless cycle, another desolate, never-ending feud that always resulted from arranged marriages between immortals.

"Meiran," he began, but her angry voice silenced him.

"My name is Nataku! Get it right Wufei!" She was always so angry. He did not want to be married to her either, but both their existences would be so much easier if they could just get along.

"You're not worthy of the title, _Meiran." _He stood to leave, but heard her fist just in time. Ducking, he spun around, catching her in the shoulder with a perfect kick. Meiran crashed into the ground, her face twisted in pain.

"How…?" She questioned, her eyes focused inwards, and Wufei turned to walk away.

"WHY?" She screamed at him, clutching her shoulder. "You almost never practice, and you always have your head stuck in those stupid books of yours!" A tear dripped down the side of her face, and Wufei was struck with the sudden need to wipe it away, and feel her smooth skin beneath his fingers.

"You're weak, along with your virtues. You have a lot of nerve, calling yourself Nataku." He walked away, and when she thought he was out of earshot, Wufei could hear her start on her katas, desperate to beat him one day. She didn't seem to realize that the same passion she put into everything kept her from beating him.

'_You still have a lot to learn, Wufei.'_

Wufei took his dragon's advice seriously. While they did not have the closest of bonds, she was, in all actuality, the only one who would understand him, just as he was the only one able to understand her.

The bond between rider and dragon stretched beyond love, beyond justice, beyond this Earth. Wufei sighed. It made all the things he fought for seem so irrelevant. In a way though, it was that understanding that allowed him to be so strong, while Meiran was so weak.

'_Nothing you do in this life is irrelevant, Wufei, and Meiran is stronger than you think. Her spirit burns brightly. She is a powerful person.'_

Wufei shrugged, choosing not to acknowledge her. Ever since Heero had left, Wufei's concentration had been off. Nobody at this compound could give him a challenge. He stared at the white gleam of his palm and wondered what would have become of him without his dragon. Four years was a long time, and he almost could not conceive life without her.

"Wufei!" He turned, not surprised to see his wife there. Her eyes glowed with passionate flames of anger, the air around him several degrees colder than it had been an instant ago. Meiran was unique, the only cross breed between an elf and an elemental spirit. "One day, I will beat you! I will prove to you that my weak virtues are stronger than you!"

Wufei turned away from her, giving her only a short "hn." However, deep in his secret heart, a part of him rejoiced. He would look forward to the next time she challenged him, and he looked forward to the day she finally beat him, and showed him the power of her weak virtues. Somehow, he wanted her to succeed, if only to see her angry glare transformed into a peaceful smile; something he had never been able to do, because of his accursed pride.

_Is this love? _Wufei wondered, placing a hand to his heart. It pulsed deep within him, longing to go back to her. His face scrunched up in a look of terrible confusion, and his hair, hanging down his back for ounce, swayed with the wind.

Allowing his hand to fall to his side, he ignored the aching from his heart. Love was something he had neither the time nor the patience to indulge.

'_Wufei, I will cheer for Meiran on the day that she beats you.'_

Wufei smiled, heading back to the castle.

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"You're lying." Heero was deadly serious, his eyes flat. "There are no Peacecrafts left. They were all killed off years ago."

Relena smiled, flicking a strand of her dark blonde hair behind a pointed, elf like ear. Duo was lost. Weren't the Peacecrafts the ancient leaders of Sanq, a country destroyed hundreds of years ago? That would make this chick how old? She didn't look a day older than Quatre!

"You can't be a Peacecraft!" Duo exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger in her direction. "You'd be older than that!"

Relena smiled, and Duo suddenly noticed something. Her pupils were slit, not elf-like, more like a cat.

"I'm not a creature susceptible to time. I'm a werecat, one of the only truly immortal species on this planet." She smiled, and turned to Heero.

"I thought fire spirits had died out as well. I can see that I'm mistaken." Relena had two thin braids tied behind her ears, and Duo thought it was a weird moment to notice them.

"What are the other immortal creatures?" Duo asked, curious to what Relena's reply would be.

"Dragons, elves, elemental spirits, and…" Heero paused, and his eyes met Duo's. "Riders," Heero finished stoically. Duo's eyes widened. He was immortal? He never knew. It was supposed to be impossible!

This was so freakin' cool!

Relena smiled at Heero, exposing canines that were slightly too long. "I can see you've done your homework."

Sally grinned. "Come on. I have a cabin not far from here. You two can clean up, and then we'll start your lessons."

Duo was jerked out of his merry thoughts of living forever. "Lessons?" He asked incredulously, his jaw dropping.

Relena nodded. "If you want to save your friends, you'll have to learn how to use and control yourself. We're here to teach you that."

"_Vuele!" _Sally shouted, lifting into the air. Relena transformed, leaping onto her shoulder. Iria took off, following them.

Solo lowered his head, and Duo hopped on. "Come on!" He called to Heero, holding out an arm to him.

"Fire spirits were never meant for flying," he warned the braided boy. Duo snorted.

"Says who?" Duo asked. "If god didn't want us to fly, he wouldn't have given us the means to make it happen."

"Hn." Duo took that as a Hn-I give up, you're impossible. Duo waved his arm in front of the stoic boy's face, pulling Heero's attention back to him.

Heero looked at his arm inquisitively, before grasping it in a strong grip and pulling himself up behind Duo.

Solo took off, racing into the sky after the retreating forms of Sally and Iria. Duo felt Heero tense up behind him before strong arms wrapped around his waist, almost clinging to him.

Heero didn't seem to be the type of person to cling to anything. It was a sign that something was seriously bothering him.

'_It seems that he's scared of flying,' _Solo remarked. Duo grinned. This was the only emotion Heero had ever expressed around him. He'd be damned if he didn't take advantage of it.

'_Ready Solo?' _Duo questioned, smirking. He received a mental smirk in return. Tightening his grip on Solo's neck with his thighs, Duo lifted his arms into the air. Solo sped up, twisting though the air, pulling them sideways and upside down, centrifugal force keeping them glued to his back.

Duo would be the first to admit that he was a serious trill seeker, and what could beat flying on a dragon!

On their first time upside down, Heero's buried his head uncharacteristically into Duo's back, and his arms tightened around Duo's waist.

"Whooohooo!" Duo shouted in excitement, enjoying the air as it flew past his face, flipping his braid in the wind. In the sky, he could forget all his problems. There were no troubles, no ghosts. It was only him and Solo up in the sky, Heero's strong arms wrapped around him.

On the third flip, Duo felt Heero smile into his back. It made the entire trip worth it.

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Heero resisted the urge to laugh as they rocketed through the air. Duo's scent intoxicated him, while trees flitted past, only the size of tiny green ants. He could feel Duo's muscular stomach through the other boy's shirt, and Duo's back pressed against his chest. Taking his head out of Duo's back, he rested on Duo's shoulder, almost struck by a renegade braid whipping through the air.

Somehow, this felt right; just him and Duo, up here in the sky. They were soaring, and Heero had never felt anything like it. He didn't know whether to appreciate it or push it way.

The wind pushed against Heero, threatening him. His messy hair was thrown away from his youthful face, and without shadows against his eyes, he actually looked like a teen instead of an ageless murderer.

A small smile on his face would most likely seem natural on his face, if one didn't know the ever frowning fire spirit.

Finally, they landed, and Duo leapt off Solo ecstatically, Heero following more calmly, erasing his smile before someone realized that it existed. Solo and Iria apparently had a discussion, because after a few 'words' to Duo they both left.

"Okay boys, the boys bathing area is over there." Heero looked over to the small building, realizing that it was probably built around a hot spring. His nose confirmed that thought, recognizing the smell of hot water.

Duo rushed forward, throwing open the door and quickly stripping. Heero turned his head, not realizing why he had a blush on his face. Duo undid his braid, running his hands through the crimped hair. Heero watched as he jumped into the water, splashing the poor fire spirit. Luckily, it was a hot spring, meaning the water wasn't freezing cold.

To say that Heero was a fire spirit and therefore allergic to water was incorrect. A better term to use would be heat. All of his power came from heat, which was frequently in the form of fire. He was not allergic to the water itself, only the lack of heat within it. To him, heated water was no problem.

Heero heard a sigh of contentment and turned to see Duo with his head tilted back, long, creamy neck exposed, slightly pink from the heat of the water. His eyes were lidded, his mouth open ever so slightly, exposing perfectly straight, white teeth.

Heero pulled his now wet clothes off, folding them neatly before setting them down. He climbed into the hot water, liking the feeling of heat surrounding him once again. Pulling down some shampoo from a shelf by the spring, Heero tried to ignore the sound of Duo humming while he shampooed his ridiculously long hair. Heero allowed himself to absorb the heat of the water, replenishing his previously exhausted magic stores.

Duo's voice wasn't horrible, like Heero expected it to be. His voice was smooth, and most of the notes were in-tune. He was humming what sounded like a church hymn, and Heero remembered the silver cross Duo always wore around his neck. Was he very religious? Why did he always wear that cross?

The sound of Duo's voice relaxed Heero, and he didn't realize Duo had moved until his naked arms brushed Heero's side. Heero paused, wondering how that simple movement caused him to collect more heat that the hottest flame.

"Sorry, Heero, but I needed to put the shampoo back," Duo explained, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I wasn't trying to force myself on you or anything." Duo paused, running a hand through his hair. "But if you want, you only have to ask." He lowered his eyelids mock seductively, his voice turning into a low purr.

"Hn," Heero turned away from him, and when he was certain Duo could not see, gulped. Stupid boy, playing tricks with his mind. Heero got out of the spring, keeping his back to Duo in order to hide a certain problem that had developed from the longhaired boy's taunting.

"Oh my!" Relena dropped the towels she had been carrying, turning away from Heero, a blush on her face. "I'm sorry to interrupt you. I though that you two were still in the spring when you didn't answer my knocking. I'm so sorry!"

Duo's sniggering echoed in the background, and Relena's blush spread to her pointed ears and delicate neck. "I'll just be leaving now! I'm so sorry!" And so, covering her eyes, she rushed out the door. Duo's laughter bubbled over, and Heero had the most childish urge to splash him. Instead, he picked up a towel, and wrapping it around his waist, he used his natural heat to dry himself before the water became too cool.

Pulling on his clothes, he attempted to ignore Duo as he grabbed three towels. Two were dedicated to wrapping his hair atop his head, the other one wrapped around his waist. "Hey, could you just dry me off a little with that cool little heat trick of yours. I mean, it takes forever and a day for my hair to dry."

"Hn." Heero had half a mind to leave him there and let him dry off himself, but then he remembered he owed this boy his life two times over.

Walking towards the boy, he placed a hand on his wet shoulder. Focusing, he drove a quick flash of heat over his body, drying Duo and leaving his hair just a bit damp.

"Thanks!" Ignoring the boy, he followed the path Relena had taken only minutes earlier, wondering why his face felt hot and the feeling of Duo's cool skin imprinted itself in his mind.

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Lady Une grinned, no small amount of evil in her eyes. After discussing the "virtues" of working for the Devil's claw, Lord Treize had left, in order to give them time to think over their decisions. Lady Une already knew that they would not make the right choice.

The blonde probably wouldn't be able to stomach some of the missions the Claw needed to accomplish, and the tall brunette had looked upon Lord Treize with a mistrust instinctively ground into him by the elves.

The Lady frowned, bashing her closed fist against the table in anger. Couldn't they see that they were wrong? Couldn't they see that the only true way to happiness was to work for Lord Treize? Lord Treize was always right. He was a selfless, caring man, sacrificing his life to work for the benefit of others. Those two were worthless, if they could not see Lord Treize's brilliant plans for the future.

For Lord Treize, she would help him turn these ideals into a reality. For Lord Treize, she would rip out her own heart and hand it to him on a silver-no! - A gold platter. She lived for Lord Treize, and she would die for Lord Treize. She had given him her castles, a signal of her loyalty, and spent all her money making sure that people everywhere knew her Lord.

So entranced in her love, Lady Une failed to realize that maybe, just maybe, Lord Treize wasn't some sort of god, but a man, and a man cursed and corrupted by forces beyond his control. A man whose peaceful ideals would lead them all into an eternity of the darkness he suffered, day by day, night by night.

But Lady Une didn't realize any of this. All she could do was do her best to help him, all the while fingering her neck, imagining him marking her, pulling her into an eternity of darkness.

Beautiful, blissful, everlasting darkness; she would spend it all with him. Because love, while powerful, was also like a serpent, waiting to strike: Deadly and Dangerous.

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Quatre averted his eyes from the taller elf, focusing them on the floor. Honestly, he didn't know what to say. He knew he wouldn't join Treize; he could never forget the assassination attempt on his life, but at the same time, he now realized that he had more options available to him than going back to the elves to train.

With Iria and immortality on his side, the _world _was open to him. He could spend his entire life traveling, learning cultures and languages, experimenting with who he really was. He could continue teaching, sharing his wisdom with younger generations.

Heck, he could even become rich charging people for Dragon rides.

For a moment, he envied the elf. He knew what he wanted to do, and he had a path to follow. His life was like a river, constantly flowing in one direction, branching of occasionally, but always returning to his original path.

Quatre was like an ocean. Forever drifting, unsure of what direction it was moving in, not even sure if it was even moving at all.

Of course, a lot of his decision would have to come from Iria herself, but since the bracelet on his wrist prevented him from contacting her, he was all alone. Freedom was a powerful sensation, but responsibility was even more powerful. Quatre wasn't sure what, but he knew that something was going to happen soon, and he knew that he, Duo, Trowa, and any other rider out there was going to be drawn into it. His sense of responsibility wouldn't allow him to leave well enough alone.

"So, Trowa, you're going to go back to the elves after this, right?" Quatre asked, his eyes still focused on the ground, its grayish color was suddenly particularly intriguing.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught Trowa's small nod, before the duo retreated into an awkward, but easy silence. Quatre could hear Trowa's retreating footsteps, walking away from him. Still, Quatre's tongue was burning with the urge to say something, anything, but he didn't know what.

The door shut, leaving him in almost complete darkness, alone with the weak, flickering candles. Quatre still couldn't think of what he needed to see Trowa, but he had the feeling that this wasn't the only time the elf would walk out on him. Quatre only hoped he could figure out what he had to say before Trowa finally walked out of his life.

'_Iria,'_ he reached out, grasping Iria's presence with his mind. He could still feel her, despite the collar and bracelet he wore. Zechs had put it on after he dressed, and Quatre could see no conceivable way of getting it off. There wasn't even a keyhole.

'_Yes Quatre?' _Iria replied, her voice relieved, buckets full of love washing over him because of their connection. The bracelets didn't work properly on him, for some reason.

'_You're really here, in my head, Iria?' _Quatre asked, happiness overwhelming him, forcing him to sit down on the chair that Treize had sat on during their last encounter.

'_Yes! I've been trying to contact you for a day and a half now! Why were you tuning me out?' _The last sentence was spoken in an accusative, hurt tone.

'_I haven't been able to reach you, Iria. I have this bracelet, and it blocks my thoughts and magic.' _He could feel Iria nodding in the back of his head, before the bracelet around his arm suddenly tightened, cutting off his circulation.

Pain erupted from the cold metal, quickly traveling up his arm. It was worse than the spell Dorothy had put on him before, mainly because the pain was all focused on one pat of his body.

His thoughts scrambled, destroying the little bit of magic that had started to wind its way around his mind, ready to help him.

'_Quatre!' _Iria screamed, but her voice seemed farther away, as if they were on opposite sides of a field. Her voice echoed, getting softer and softer, until it finally faded away.

"Iria…"

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Noin shook her head, completing her transformation. Catherine was a hard girl for Noin to imitate, and she had a feeling that Trowa was already suspicious. She really wasn't too good at the spunky, tomboyish, protective vibe that Catherine gave off, not that the elf would ever know that. She was safe and sound back at her familiar village.

It didn't really matter though. Keep Trowa distracted and stop him from attempting to escape. That was all Treize had told her to do. She sighed, working the stress slowly from her body.

Being a water spirit wasn't as glamorous as one would think. Sure, she had all sorts of cool abilities, like being able to reflect any person she had seen once before; just like a reflection in a body of water.

There were difficulties though. She had to stay near water at all times, as she drew her energy from moister in the air, and the farther away she was from water, the weaker she grew. Also, she had a weakness for extreme heat, and she had to watch her salt intake. It dried her up, seriously.

"Hello Noin, it's good to see you as yourself." Zechs set his mask down, and looked at her with exquisite, sky blue, slit eyes. His long hair flowed down his back, and Noin resisted the urge to grab him by his golden locks and drag him into a rough, hard, kiss.

She was also interested to see if he was a true blonde, but she kept those thoughts to herself. It would not do well for her to develop feelings for a superior officer. After all, wasn't she the one who told her that there was no use for different genders on the battlefield?

She could not allow her sex to define her. She was a better soldier than most of the men, and the only person to best her in hand-to-hand combat, besides the rider, was Zechs himself. She hadn't fought Treize since the unspeakable era, and she wondered how she would fare against him now.

Still, she wanted to do… Unspeakable things to the blonde-haired werecat, most of them involving handcuffs and other fun…Toys. Yes, sexual frustration was getting the best of her if she was having thoughts about handcuffs.

"How long do you think it will take for Treize to realize that no matter what we do, they can't help us?" Noin refused to believe that her gut instinct was wrong. It was never wrong.

"They might help us if we have the support of the Peacecrafts." Zechs sighed, rubbing his temples tiredly with a white gloved hand. Noin didn't know why he constantly brought the subject up if it was such a cause of stress.

"How long?" She asked, looking to her tired companion. He shrugged, his blonde hair shifting with the sudden movement.

"Treize says the stage still isn't set." He looked slightly worried, not that Noin could blame him.

Setting her hand on the table beside his mask, Noin faced away from him, a slight blush on her face. "Just remember, Milliardo, no matter what your battle is, I will always fight by your side." A blush covered her cheeks, and she felt glad that she was facing away from him.

His larger, firm hand covered hers in an embrace. "Why?" He asked her. She felt surprised. He had never questioned her loyalty before.

_Because I love you…_

"Because you are my captain."

She didn't expect him to pull her hand from the table, knocking his mask to the ground and forcing her to face him. She didn't expect him to cup her face tenderly in those white gloved hands. And when he kissed her, she wrapped her arms around his back, tangling her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer.

_To Hell with protocol!_

Zech's mask lay on the floor, forgotten.

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Duo focused on his opponent, violet eyes narrowed, his chest heaving. His braided hair was sweaty and had blades of grass stuck in it, and his shirt clung to his skin. Duo dodged Heero's next attack, pulling himself backwards to avoid getting a fist shoved into his stomach. His braid whipped forward, and before Duo could figure out what was happening, he felt a sharp tug on his braid, pain spiraling through his head, and Heero had pulled him against his chest, using the braid to pull his head to the side, leaving his neck bare.

"Treize is a vampire," Heero informed him, keeping a firm grip on his braid, tilting his head to an almost painful angle.

"He will use this to his advantage." Heero's breath was warm on Duo's skin, and he could feel the muscles tensing in Heero's stomach, and his eyes began to flutter close.

Heero shoved him forward, releasing his hair, and Duo stumbled. What was he doing fantasizing about Heero when Quatre's life was in danger. And besides, he still hadn't forgiven Heero! The only reason that he was still alive was because of their bond. Duo could somehow feel that it was real. He was sure that Heero couldn't be lying about that, or the black, smooth lines etched into his skin in the place of scars, couldn't be possible without magic.

Waiting for Heero to attack, he was surprised when the brunette leapt into the air, twisting like a humanoid pretzel. Duo sidestepped his attack, landing a firm kick to the underside of his knees. Heero crumpled to the ground, and Duo tackled him from behind, twisting his arms behind his back to limit his mobility. His legs were intertwined with Heero's, pinning them to the ground, and his hips were pressed into Heero, using the entirety of his body weight to keep the more muscular boy down.

"Oh my! I seem to always seem to be walking in on you two at the wrong time. Please don't allow me to interrupt your… activities, I just wanted to tell you that dinner was ready!" Bowing, she turned and ran, but not before Duo heard one last comment.

"Duo on top! That's a surprise!" Duo blushed a bright red, the same shade as Solo's eyes. Before he could blink, Heero had flipped them, reversing their positions. Heero held Duo's arms above his head, pinning him down with his legs.

"There will be plenty of distractions on the battlefield. You need to learn to ignore them."

Duo heard a snort, and a sudden, "Relena told me that you two were going at it like rabbits, but I just had to see for myself."

Duo knocked Heero off him, turning to Sally. His face once again bright red, and Sally gave him an arrogant smirk.

"You look like you need a little cooling off," Sally stated, raising a hand. _"Agua."_

Duo shivered as the freezing water fell all over him. That was cold (on so many levels!) What was it and people deciding that they needed to get him hopelessly wet? Once again, he was drenched. "Ah man," he sighed, holding up a soggy braid. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Heero smirk, and Duo huffed. Throwing his braid over his shoulder, he "accidentally" splashed Heero.

"Sorry man," Duo grinned, twisting his soaked braid in an effort to ring it out. When Heero glared at him with fiery blue eyes, Duo stuck his tongue out at him.

"Ah well, now I don't have to take another shower! Bet you feel sorry for feeling me up now, don't you Heero? No free views tonight." Duo snickered, happy when he got a slight widening of Heero's eyes in response.

It had been over a day since the two of them got there, and Duo quickly learned that despite all of his emotional covers, Heero was amazingly easy to read. Honestly, he should create a 'hn' dictionary, labeling what Heero meant whenever he actually responded to anything.

Quatre would get a kick out of that. Feeling suddenly depressed, Duo turned to Sally, a fake, overly cheery smile pasted on his face. "So, where's that dinner you told us about?" Duo joked. His stomach growled, and Duo rubbed it, placing an embarrassed look on his face.

"It's inside, when you're ready," Sally told them, walking back inside to her rather large cabin.

Duo started to follow her when a strong hand caught his arm, and Duo felt callused fingers griping the sensitive skin on the underside of his upper arm. Heero stared at him, his eyes intense, with an unknown emotion running through them. The sunset was behind him, casting his figure in darkness, his shadow thrown over Duo. The wind was blowing gently, a warm breeze, and Duo found himself caught in those mystifying eyes.

"Don't smile when you don't mean it." Duo blinked, and for the first time in his life he couldn't find anything to say. His fake smiles had always fooled everyone, while the real him lay hidden in a world only he knew about. He felt naked, emotionally vulnerable, and unraveled in front of Heero.

Struck between the urge to pull Heero into a hug and slap him, Duo shrugged his arm away, walking back towards Sally's cabin. Finally finding words, he spoke to Heero in barely a whisper, not really caring if the fire spirit heard. "If I don't smile and have fun, then what do I have left to live for?"

This time, Heero was the one left speechless, standing in the setting sun.

Neither of them noticed a figure hiding in the shadows, a black hood pulled over his head to hide him from the sun.

"Noin, Zechs, my dear old friends. The stage is almost set, and I can only hope that everyone plays their part."


	7. Interlude: Sanq

-1Intermission: Sanq

Warnings: See last Chapter!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

Relena watched, filled with envy, as Duo and Heero trained furiously. Those two were made for each other, and Relena knew it as it was written into the tapestries of time. Walking over to Duo's bag, she tried to calm herself. She'd had no idea that she would fall for Heero on first sight, not when he was destined to be with another. While she would love to have him, she wasn't selfish enough to take him away from Duo.

Sorting through his clothes, she momentarily paused at the sight of a violin. Her sharp nose detected that it wasn't Duo's, and Relena wondered if it belonged to the other rider, the blonde boy who had been traveling with him.

Shifting past the beautiful instrument, she drew a book from the worn bag. It was stained with blood, and Relena felt tears fill the corners of her eyes as she wondered how many people had died in order to protect this piece of history.

The title read "Dragon Riders," but Relena knew better. The book was actually the complete history of their land, as seen by everyone. Their knowledge was absorbed into the text, filling the blanks and making it the most reliable source ever known.

The title was a sign. Every generation, as the book was handed from person to person, a new title appeared, naming the book's true owners.

The book was once held in her old kingdom, Sanq, but after it fell, the text was hidden, transferred from church to church, kept safe from those who would use its knowledge for evil.

Flipping the book open, she stopped at a picture of a golden castle overlooking the mighty ocean, tranquil in the afternoon sun. Fishers lined the docks, broad smiles on their faces as they hauled back their heavy load, and farmers harvested their crops, plump and merry. After all, everyone in Sanq was happy.

One of Relena's tears hit the bright picture, and she wiped her eyes, attempting to hold back the sniffles. She missed her home. Looking to an outcropping of rocks overlooking the sea, Relena focused in on a stream of blonde hair. Milliardo Peacecraft, true air to the throne, was slouching, looking out into the endless sea.

300 hundred years before Quatre found Iria and Duo, when the sun shined down upon a world filled with peace and harmony; that is where our story begins.

Milliardo was bored. Father never let him do anything, and his teachers were always following him everywhere, lecturing him on the virtues of finding a wife and carrying on the Peacecraft name. He was only eleven years old for heaven's sake! As far as he was concerned, girls still had cooties!

His long blonde hair swept around his upper arms. His teachers called it girlish and undignified. His mother had loved it, when she had been alive at least. He would never cut it!

Swinging his legs over the outcropping, Milliardo wondered how long it would take his boring teachers to find him and drag him back to those dreadful lessons. "Millyyy!"

Milliardo turned, a rare smile on his normally frowning face. "Relena…" The three-year-old girl leapt into his arms, her chubby fingers wrapping around his neck and tangling in his hair. The girl was adorably sweet, with short blonde hair and big blue eyes. Like his, they were slit, but unlike Milliardo, Relena was more werecat than elf, instead of preferring to stay humanoid like him. Her gray cat ears formed little fuzzy triangles on the top of her head, and an equally gray tail wrapped around her waist.

"Ms. Relena! Please, where did you go?" Milliardo could hear Noin, Relena's nanny, shouting for her in the distance. Milliardo smiled lightly, thinking of the kind, but strong willed girl. Try as she might, she was no werecat, and she would never be able to smell their scents through the thick brush that separated the mainland from Milliardo's outcropping.

"Daddy's looking' for ya, Milly! He says its impotent!" Milliardo gagged at his sisters mispronunciation, blushing slightly.

"That's important, Relena, with an R." He set her down as he instructed her. She looked back with those puppy eyes, a sweet smile on her face.

"That's what I said, impotent!" Milliardo frowned, figuring there was no need to correct her if she just couldn't say the word. He took his sister's hand, frowning at the thought of his father. Right now, he really didn't want to see the man. He had probably figured out that Milliardo was sneaking out and taking martial arts and fencing lessons every night. If that was the case, Milliardo didn't want to go see him.

"Why ya frowning Milly!" Milliardo shook his head, giving his sister a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry Relena, it's nothing!"

Relena smiled and nodded.

"I hope it's nothing impotent!"

Milliardo sighed; this hadn't been a good day.

The two siblings wound their way through the complicated maze that made up their large castle, making their way to the throne room where their father waited. Finally, they made it there, and both siblings looked up at Lord Peacecraft.

"Ms. Relena!" Noin, her hands on her thighs, heaving and sweaty, rushed into the room. "Don't run off like that! Do you want to get me fired?"

Relena lowered her gaze, playing with her clawed fingers guiltily. "No, Ms. Noin."

King Peacecraft cleared his throat, and turned to Noin. "Lucrezia, Relena, you may be excused."

Noin pulled a quick curtsy, almost impossible in her tight leggings, and pulled Relena out of the room.

Milliardo bowed respectfully, the ends of his hair brushing the marble floor. "Father."

Suddenly, there was a large thump, and the floor shook violently. Only Milliardo's martial arts training kept him from falling to the ground. He turned, startled, only to come face to eye with a huge monster!

"Ahhh!" Milliardo screamed, falling backwards, a hand pointing at the creature. "What is that?"

The creature snorted, amused, and flames burst into the air for a split second. Milliardo, a pyromaniac at heart watched the flickering warmth disappear sadly.

"That, my young lord, is a dragon."

A man, clad completely in golden armor, bowed to him, a sparkle of amusement present in his intelligent eyes. A dragon! Milliardo had always wanted one. Most princes his age wanted a pony, but he thought that it was stupid to traverse the Earth when you could fly through the skies.

Milliardo walked up to the dragon, stroking its flank. All nervousness forgotten, he turned to the rider. "She's gorgeous," he remarked, a hand on the dragon.

The rider's eyes widened a fraction before he asked, "How do you know it's a she?" That was a good question.

"Umm… I just guessed?" He answered. He honestly didn't know how he knew, but somehow the dragon seemed feminine.

"Milliardo." Milliardo snapped to attention at his father's call, the dragon lingering at the back of his mind, never leaving. She was a dark blue, and her scales glittered like jewels in the palace.

"How many times must I tell you that it is not safe to sneak out of the castle?" Milliardo hung his head, but he knew he wouldn't stop sneaking out. His father's castle was just too boring! Milliardo could feel that he wasn't meant to be a crowned prince. He would much rather be a knight, fighting bravely and making a real name for himself, one that he earned.

"I apologize for my behavior." His father gave him a stern look, one that seemed out of place on his usually soft face.

"It's too late, my son. We have gotten you a body guard. He is the son of the noble rider Khushrenada." Suddenly, a young boy, only a few years older than Milliardo himself, stepped out from behind the giant dragon.

"Meet Treize Khushrenada, your new bodyguard. He will follow you everywhere, like a shadow, so I suggest you get to know him."

Milliardo's eyes widened and he stared at Treize in horror. "This is an honor my lord," the roan haired human replied, bowing even deeper than Milliardo.

This wasn't fair! All he wanted was a little freedom, and he got stuck with a bloody bodyguard?

"Father…" Milliardo began, but he knew it was fruitless. King Peacecraft frowned at his son, dismissing both him and Treize. Milliardo stomped down the hallway, his hair framing a face red with anger.

"I hate you!" He told Treize, his childish heart filled with confusion. Treize just smiled condescendingly, keeping pace with him.

"As you wish, my prince."

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A fifteen-year-old Milliardo pushed his waist length blonde tresses out of the way, glaring at Treize. Over the last four years, the two of them had become best friends, despite Milliardo's initial hatred of the other boy.

The two of them were sparring in Milliardo's room, and Treize was winning. Milliardo's eyes widened in surprise as Treize pushed him onto his bed. Milliardo's sword arm hit the oak bedpost with a loud bang, the sword falling from his hand.

"Shit!" Milliardo cursed, clutching the arm. He could already feel the bruise forming. The entire wrist was red hot with pain, and Milliardo wondered if he had broken it. A warm hand pulled at his gently, and Milliardo stared at Treize as he examined the bruise with an expert eye.

Milliardo felt a blush color his cheeks, and he wondered why. While it would be stupid to say that the tall warrior was not handsome, Milliardo felt little to no sexual energy between them. Still he didn't resist when Treize, leaning forward, crushed his lips against Milliardo's. Bewildered, the blonde prince wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck. Treize's lips were warm and slightly chapped, but Milliardo couldn't pull away for some reason.

Treize pulled away, a teasing smile on his arrogant face.

"I thought you hated me, my prince."

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The next day, Milliardo met with Noin. She was still shorter than him, with a mop of navy hair upon a tomboyish face, and her arms crossed over her chest. Ever since his kiss with Treize, he hadn't been able to meet her eyes. As they grew older, their easy coexistence changed.

At first it was subtle. Milliardo would notice how her tunic was becoming tight around her chest, or the sudden, more mature curving of her hips. Then he noticed how red and full her lips were, like ripe cherries.

He wondered if they tasted like cherries.

Soon it had come to the point where he couldn't think of her as Relena's babysitter. He spoke to her, noticing for the first time how intelligent she was, and admiring her determination to prove herself.

Noin always sounded more lovely to his ears than Lucrezia, because Noin was who she was. Lucrezia was a ditsy princess, and Noin was a strong, capable woman. Soon Noin was following him and Treize on their daily adventures into the forest, after singing Relena to sleep.

One evening during their frequent spars, after Treize had beaten him once again, Milliardo turned to the water spirit, only to see her gazing at the dying sun. The three of them had never been out that late, but they were confident in their abilities. Treize had just bonded to a dragon, a glorious golden one, and Treize always said that it matched his hair perfectly.

Treize was so different than Noin, but yet…Treize was his best friend, there was no denying that. It was just, could he think of Treize as anything other than a friend?

"We should go back as quickly as possible, Treize," Noin announced, her hands clutched nervously in her lap.

"Nonsense Lucrezia, we have plenty of time before dinner," the warrior replied. Noin turned to him, dead serious.

"First of all, call me Noin. I don't want to be defined by my sex. Second, you're not from around here, and you don't know the legends." Milliardo frowned. Legends, he hadn't heard of any

"Milliardo hasn't heard of any either, Noin. It must just be a fairy tale parents use to scare their children." Treize explained, his award winning smile plastered to his face.

"They speak of vampires Treize."

Treize laughed, and Milliardo allowed a smile to grace his features. Everyone knew that vampires were extinct. The riders, led by Treize's father himself, had exterminated them.

It was actually an extremely sad story. During the dark ages, while vampires vied to rule the world, they had attacked Treize's village while he and his father were away. By the time they came back, the entire town was flooded with the undead, and among them had been Treize's mother.

Treize's father had sent him to safety on the back of his trusted dragon and killed all the villagers, including Lady Khushrenada. After that, an extermination started, and now vampires were a thing of the past.

"Very well," Milliardo interrupted, standing. "If your imaginary ghosts scare you that much, then we'll head back in." The three of them headed back, Treize's dragon resting on his shoulder.

"Have you named him yet, Treize," Noin asked, smiling at the dragon. Treize smiled, caressing the tiny dragon's face with the back of his finger before kissing Milliardo's lips.

"Zechs. His name is Zechs Marquise."

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Milliardo threw his ball against the wall, catching it when it came back to him. The rebel forces, the ones who wanted to exterminate Sanq, had been growing particularly restless lately, and everyone was nervous. Treize wasn't even in the room.

The door swung inwards, and Milliardo started, causing him to miss his ball. It hit the bed he was sitting on, rolling, and settled in the middle of it.

"Milliardo, I need to talk to you."

Milliardo smiled, and she bit her lip, letting herself into the room.

"What is it Noin?" Milliardo asked, motioning for her to sit down. She remained standing.

Over the past six months, she had grown, trimming down and losing all that remained of her baby fat. Her stomach was as flat as a board, and her small, perky breasts were often bound to her chest in a vain attempt to hide her femaleness. Her face was longer and more angular, with high cheekbones and wide blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes. She had long legs, muscular from training, which curved elegantly into thin but sturdy hips. She wasn't stocky by any means, nor was she delicate.

"It's Relena…She's sick, and the doctor's don't know if there's any way to cure it."

Milliardo's eyes widened fractionally on his face, and he could feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Tears gathered in the corner of Noin's eyes, and she walked over to Milliardo, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Milliardo stood, shocked, unable to cry or move, or do anything. Relena? His lively, wonderful, Relena was sick? It seemed impossible, but at the same time, he knew that Noin wouldn't lie about something so serious.

"I'm sorry Milliardo. The doctors think that it's an incurable poison. Sanq has so many enemies, even though we've done nothing to deserve them, and I think the poison she had was meant for you." Milliardo could feel his anger rising above his shock. Poison?

"There is a cure…" Treize walked smoothly into the room, his rider's cape whirling around his broad shoulder's, a slight smile on his face that would've offended Milliardo if he didn't know Treize better.

Treize only smiled when he knew something nobody else did, and if that something could help. Los ángeles de la guarda, the riders who guarded the palace, knew much more than regular citizens, and even the crowned prince.

"The fang of a vampire is said to heal any illness." Treize stated, the smirk still on his face. Noin gasped, and Milliardo gazed at both of them, confused.

"Vampires are extinct Treize. Why are you telling us this if you know that?" Noin took a step backwards, placing herself behind Milliardo.

"Vampires aren't extinct Milliardo. The villagers have always known where they lived." Milliardo turned to Noin with desperate eyes.

"Noin!" He ordered. Her eyes widened, and she turned from Treize to Milliardo.

"Your father is a true pacifist, Milliardo. When the vampires were being exterminated, he spared them, sending them to live in the caves near the mountains. That's why we can never stay out after sunset, Milliardo. It's not a legend; it's the truth. Those who venture out into the darkness never return.

"Or at least, they never return alive." Noin stared at them. "Please Milliardo, it is only a legend. No one knows what a vampire fang does! If she gets itthe fang might kill her!" Milliardo looked at her, a depressed look overwhelming his features.

"But if she doesn't get it, she'll die anyways, right?"

"Shall we get going?" Treize asked, tossing Milliardo a steel sword. Milliardo nodded, catching the sword with his right hand. He wasn't going to fail Relena.

The two of them headed out the door, stopped only by the sound of steel sliding against a wooden sheath. "I should go as well." Milliardo was about to protest, but the look of determination on her face stopped him. She was more than capable of caring for herself, and she more than capable enough of making her own decisions. Milliardo needed somebody like that on his side.

"We should go now, before nightfall. The guards increase then." Milliardo nodded at Treize's advice, and together, the three of them snuck from the castle, determined to save the princess.

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Milliardo frowned at the darkness shading the ground ahead of them. Around his neck was a holy cross, a stake attached to his belt, and his sword in hand. Noin was similarly equipped, but Treize wore no cross around his neck, preferring to appear unharmed while in reality, two stakes were hidden in his sleeves.

On the way there, Noin had told him all vampires**'** weaknesses, and he quickly figured out why vampires never ate the village folk.

A vampire could only enter a dwelling when invited, unless it was his residence. They couldn't wear silver because it was a holy metal and burned their skin. Sunlight roasted them. Crosses burned them. Holy water disintegrated them, and a stake through the heart killed them. For some odd reason they were also allergic to garlic.

Milliardo hadn't gotten what he should fear until Noin continued.

Vampires were stronger than even elves, swifter than any earthly creature, and could withstand almost any physical attack. They were cunning and clever, and they could transform into bats. They also could fly, vanish into thin air, and seduce a person with the barest glance.

People feared vampires for many good reasons.

Milliardo tensed at the sound of rustling leaves. Beside him, Noin jumped, her hand tightening on his. Milliardo tried not to focus on how her hand fit perfectly inside of his, or how smooth it was, despite years of training.

"Something's here," Noin whispered, and Milliardo could see Treize heading forward, unworried.

"Treize, slow down!" Noin whispered harshly, slowing until she almost came to a complete stop.

"You are a water sprite Noin, am I wrong?" Treize's voice was just as smooth and confident as ever, despite the situation.

"Yeah, so!" Noin snapped. Milliardo could understand her temper. Collectors hunted and killed the rare, exotic beauties, and the fire spirits, who were the mightiest of the four elementals, destroyed them to keep them in line.

"Disguise yourself as a vampire. That way, we can pretend to be your victims." Treize's suggestion was rather stupid, seeing as vampires didn't take keep their victims alive long enough to walk back to their territory with.

"I've never seen a vampire before," Noin replied, watching the trees in despair as the last beam of light faded from the sky. Drenched in twilight, Milliardo thanked his cat-like eyes for quickly adjusting to the darkness.

The rustling sounded again, and before the three of them could move, they saw the ten figures before them. They had long, black capes, and pale skin. Their hair was slicked back away from their faces, and Milliardo saw gleaming white fangs gleaming in the darkness.

"What were you just saying about never having seen a vampire sweetie?" A female vampire with roan hair, the same shade as Treize's walked towards them, and Treize paled significantly.

"Mother!" He accused, and the woman threw her head back and laughed, revealing a bite mark directly above her jugular. Milliardo focused on Treize's face, watching thousands of conflicting emotion scatter through his normally focused features.

"Hello, my son. It's about time you showed up with your little friends. We've been waiting for you." Milliardo heard Noin gulp, and he tightened his grip on her hand.

"You're supposed to be dead," Treize spoke calmly, a small, twisted smile on his face. His mother only laughed.

"Your father didn't have the balls to kill me. Instead, he sent me to the one place he knew I'd be safe. The pacifistic country Sanq."

Milliardo, clenched his fist, glaring at the woman.

"Are you looking for this?" The woman held up a fang, an exact replica of the ones in her mouth. "You'll have to join us first!"

Cackling, she moved like a blur, racing for them. Then three things happened at once. Zechs, Treize's dragon, smashed through the trees, his roar drowning out any other sound. His scales sparkled with star light, burning the vampires as he swung his tail at them, sending them scattering to the other side of the small path. At the same time, Treize met his mother with one of his hidden stakes, impaling her straight through the heart. She gasped for breath before slumping over, her hair covering her face as her dark blood dripped down Treize's arm. The spare fang flew through the air, and Noin lunged for it, heading straight for the large group of vampires.

"NOIN!" Milliardo screamed, running towards her. Treize caught him by the arm, pushing him in the opposite direction.

"You must flee." He told Milliardo, pulling the stake out of his fallen mother and whirling to face the other abominations. With another push, he sent Milliardo toppling off the path, into the dense forest. Milliardo rolled down a hill, scraping his arms and legs. Noin's scream resounded through the air, but with the trees blocking the sky, Milliardo couldn't make his way back to her. His friends were in danger, and he couldn't find them.

For what seemed like hours the sounds of fighting hurt his sensitive ears. With his hands in front of him, he wandered through the forest, attempting to find Noin or Treize, or to help them with their fight.

Even with his enhanced hearing though, Treize had pushed him a good ways, and he couldn't find his way back. Milliardo growled. He couldn't even figure out who was winning.

A rustling sound reached his ears, and he nearly impaled Treize as he climbed through an opening in the trees. "It's only me Milliardo," he said, and Milliardo lowered the stake. Treize was dripping with blood, and his stakes were missing. His hair was tousled, and there was a large bruise on his cheek. He was pale, and his clothes were mussed, his collar stuck to the dried blood on his lower face.

Basically, he looked like shit.

"Where's Noin?" Milliardo asked worriedly.

"I'm right here," a voice sounded, and a beat up looking Noin stumbled towards him. Seeing Treize, she stiffened.

"Don't trust him!" She shouted, pointing to the rider.

"Now Noin-" Treize began, but he was cut off by Noin lunging at him.

"He was bitten. He's a vampire now!" Treize snorted, smiling at her. Milliardo couldn't see any fangs.

"Can you prove that?" He asked, and Noin pushed past him, grabbing Milliardo, and dragging him towards the scent of death.

He found himself back on the path, and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. The entire pathway was littered with vampires, holes where their hearts were supposed to be. Then, something else caught Milliardo's eyes.

A large dragon lay dead in the middle of the path, no wounds marring it, but dead nonetheless. Unless dragons died from wounds, the only way for them to die was if there rider was dead. And since Treize was walking besides them, that meant that he was already dead, but still alive, caught in the limbo between the two worlds.

He was not living but undead; a vampire.

Suddenly Treize was right behind him, pinning his arms to his side with unnatural strength. Fangs brushed his neck, and hot breath warmed his chilly flesh, sending goosebumps up his spine. A vampire. Dear god, what was going to happen next?

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Relena shut the book and tossed it back into Duo's bag. Even though every fiber of her being urged her to read on, she couldn't. It was her fault! The fact that Treize was a vampire, and the consequences that led from that one day, they were all her fault. Her heart cried for Treize, but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to forgive him for everything he had done.

Sadly, she stroked the fang resting on a chain around her neck. It was the only thing keeping her alive. Even after almost three hundred years, the poison had yet to be flushed from her system. If she took her pendant, her curse, off, she would die within hours.

And as much as Relena felt guilty for what happened, she knew that she could never pull the fang off and end her existence. The worst part was that she didn't know if she was too cowardly too do it, or too brave.

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Quatre woke up in a cold sweat. That woman, the one in his dreams that looked like Zechs, and the book she was reading were real. Quatre knew it. Zechs Marquise, the masked man, was the same as Milliardo Peacecraft, the prince. Treize was once a hero, and Zechs the name of a dragon.

It confused him, muddled with his feverish mind and played with his sanity.

"Honey, are you ok?" A concerned voice asked, and Quatre looked up into the violet eyes of Catherine, Trowa's older sister. It took him a while to focus, and even then, nothing was as sharp as it should have been.

"Yeah, I'm fine Noin. I just had a nightmare." Suddenly violet eyes flickered to blue as a strange look crossed Catherine's face. At least, Quatre thought so. In this state, it was hard to tell a lot of things.

_What did I just call her?_

"What did you just call me?" Catherine's voice was sharp, and she suddenly looked more threatening than a simple, kind-hearted elf.

"I just called you Catherine, why?" Quatre lied, hoping it would fool the woman, Catherine or Noin, whoever she was. Quatre didn't know, and he was too tired to care.

"Oh!" Catherine replied. "I must be imagining things!"

She walked out the door, and Quatre stared after her. Something was up with that woman, and Quatre had a feeling it involved a certain blue-haired water spirit.

Then what about Trowa? Was Trowa not all he seemed as well? And Duo as well? What if they were all fakes? What was the purpose of keeping him here in the first place?

His head hurt, and he needed medicine.

Quatre rested his head on the warm pillow, and inhaled Trowa's scent, blushing slightly. After his encounter with Iria, he was constantly tired. It had been almost a day and a half since then, and still Quatre could walk only a few steps before he collapsed.

All his energy was gone, though he could still feel it pulsing in the gold band around his wrist.

Suddenly he felt another presence in the room, and emerald eyes met his gaze. A cool wash cloth ran across his feverish forehead, and Quatre snuggled closer to the warmth. Everything was blurry around the edges, but he could still make out Trowa's bright, emerald eyes.

"I talked to Iria," Quatre told the elf. This was the first time Trowa had visited him.

Trowa's eyes widened slightly, but besides that, no other facial expressions were recognizable on his face. The cool cloth stopped, just sitting there on his forehead. The water was starting to drip into his eyes.

For some reason, whether it was the fact that he was feverish, or the effects of being a hormone driven teenager, Quatre lifted himself up, using his elbows as a balance.

The world was cold around him, but he was hot. The washcloth on his head, slipped over his neck and shoulder, landing with a plop behind him on his pillow. Trowa looked cold, with hard eyes and a cool disposition.

Quatre hated being hot, and Trowa's coolness was as inviting to him as food was to a hungry Duo.

Trowa hadn't moved besides pulling his arm away. Quatre leaned towards him, focusing on his lips. He knew it was stupid, but that didn't stop him from doing it.

Wrapping an arm around the elf's neck, he pulled his sown to his level, brushing Trowa's lips with his own.

He pulled away, and did it again, adjusting the angle to get more contact. Then he was lying flat on his back in bed, his head spinning.

Trowa was no longer in the chair next to his bed, and Quatre might have been able to ignore his presence, if it wasn't for the open door. His neck pressed against the cool washcloth from before, splashing him with a wave of conscious thought.

He just kissed Trowa! Why? What? When? How?

Quatre groaned. He felt like Middie had just run him over, and then come back and stomped on him to make sure he was dead. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Leaning over, he threw up the meager remains of his now unsettled stomach. The world spun around him as he collapsed back against the bed. He spat out the remainders of the bile from his throat, shivering violently.

He couldn't even reach up and wipe the rest of it from his face. He was so tired.

Another violent shiver wracked his body, and Quatre nearly laughed. Before, he was hot, and he wanted to be cold. Now, he was cold, and he desperately needed heat.

The desert was like this; cold during the day and dark at night, but at least it was a regular pattern. Tears spilt from Quatre's eyes, washing away some of the bile on his cheeks.

He didn't even know why he was crying.

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Duo groaned and poured some more water into the small tub he was using to wash dishes. The thing was leaky, and the water kept draining out the bottom. Why Duo, the most impulsive and impatient one of their group was washing the dishes, he would never know.

As quickly as possible, he started to scrub the dishes, drying them in what must have been record time. He reached for a fifth dish, and dunking it in the water he sighed when it met only air. The damn water had leaked again!

"Damn it!" he screamed, gritting his teeth. Tossing his head, he heard a crash. All of his clean dishes, which he had spent _hours_ cleaning, had just been thrown to the ground by his rebellious braid, over half of them smashed, and the rest dirty.

"AHHHHHHH!" Getting on his hands and knees, Duo tried to collect the shards, but one of them cut his index finger open.

Sticking the finger in his mouth, he got up, only to trip over a stick in the short grass, and flip into the tub.

With a groan, he tried to climb out, but the edges were slippery from soap and water, and Duo managed to flip the tub over, landing in the muddy grass underneath it, where all the water that leaked from the tub collected.

"Shit! &&$&$&#$---_Fuego!" _

A raging fire lifted around him, burning all the sources of frustration around him to smithereens before disappearing.

Duo stood up and kicked at one of the few remaining dishes.

"Mwahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Take that, evil dishes of doom!"

Suddenly, what he had just done hit him as hard and fast as an angry rhino. Had he just used magic? Yes, he had just used magic!

"Holy shit! Duo, you are the man!" Twisting his hips from side to side, Duo started a weird ritualistic dance, known only by those people who have overcome a large and extremely annoying source of frustration, or were epileptic. His braid flopped from side to sde, spraying mud everywhere.

Suddenly, a giggling was heard, and Duo stared at Relena, who was suddenly standing right next to him.

"What's so funny?" He asked accusingly.

"You," Relena answered, her cheeks red from her giggling. "It's just that, we do this with all new recruits to introduce them to magic, and yours has been, by far, the most amusing."

Duo blinked, his jaw dropping. "Introduce to magic say what?" A hand pushed his jaw closed, and Sally smiled at him.

"Usually, when a student doesn't already know magic, we find that they have to be either extremely scared or frustrated for it to work, so we give them an impossible task to complete, like washing dishes when the basin is constantly leaking. When they get frustrated enough, they scream out a spell, and poof! They can now use magic."

Duo scowled, splashing Sally with his braid. "So now I know magic?" Duo asked. As it was, his mind felt open. He could feel things more clearly, and their, lying in the back of his mind, was something that seemed foreign and familiar at the same time.

"No," Relena intoned. "Now you know how to use magic. I will teach you magic itself, the ways to use it, when you should use it, spells you can use, and its limitations."

Duo felt like a rock had just fell from the sky and landed on top of him. "Usually," Relena continued, "that takes years, but given the circumstances, we're going to just cover the basics"

_The things I do for you, Quatre._

"OK!" Duo shouted, dragging Relena by the wrist, "the sooner we get started, the sooner we can finish!"


	8. Interlude: Sanq part 2

Sorry about the long wait! School's been a bitch and vacation was somehow even busier...

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

WARNINGS: Shounen ai, het. If you don't know what those are, you probably shouldn't be reading this.

Interlude: Sanq-continued

Milliardo stood as still as possible, feeling the sharp fangs barely scraping the flesh of his neck. His heart was beating a mile a minute, and he frowned, wondering if this would be the last moment he actually could breath.

"Milliardo!" Noin screamed, and before Milliardo could even move, Treize was dragged backwards, away from him. Noin's hand brushed his, and he clutched the vampire fang lovingly, desperate to keep it safe.

" Milliardo, run!" Noin shouted, and Milliardo turned to see her on top of Treize, a stake held in her slender hand.

Milliardo's mind stopped, fixated on Noin's desperate features, her mussed blue hair shadowing her eyes. He couldn't leave her, and yet, Relena was sick and didn't have much time left. His sister, or the woman he had come to care for with almost all his heart.

And then there was Treize. Treize, his best friend, and something more? It confused him, and he closed his eyes tightly, whispering a silent apology.

He feet carried him away from the clearing, through the forest, back to his sister.

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Noin pushed the stake forward in a vain attempt to pierce her opponent's heart. Treize caught her arm with a clawed one, holding it in place.

He was stronger than her, no doubt about it, but she couldn't give up. The thick darkness surrounding them was starting to lift, and it wouldn't be long until the sun rose. She just had to stall until then.

"Now now Lucrezia, you wouldn't kill a dear friend, would you?"

Noin paused for a half of an instant, but that was enough time for Treize. With inhuman strength, he jerked the stake from her hand, flinging her into a tree.

Noin slowly raised her head, blood dripping into her left eye and clouding her vision. Treize held the stake confidently, walking towards her slowly.

"Don't worry, Noin. Your death is an honorable one, spent protecting the one you love. Don't worry, I'll tell Milliardo how you struggled to give him time."

Kneeling beside her, he held the stake in front of him. Noin closed her eyes, a feeling of odd calm overtaking her. The sun was rising, and he hadn't realized it. He would die, and her precious Milliardo would be safe.

Treize grinned at the motionless woman in front of him and jerked the stake back. Staking someone through the heart might be a famous way to kill vampires, but it worked on most other species as well.

Thrusting the stake forward, he smiled victoriously.

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Milliardo crashed through the doors to the castle, heaving for breath. Wasting no time, he raced up the grand staircase, running past the various rooms to his sister's.

Her main room was completely pink with hand painted unicorns adorning the walls. Relena was sleeping fitfully, her mouth turned downward in a grimace.

"I'm here Relena, don't worry." His calm, reassuring voice didn't waver at all, something he was both proud of and ashamed of at the same time. Hurriedly, he placed the fang against her chest, praying that it would work. Noin had told him the fang would work almost instantaneously, but if she was ever parted from it, her life would end.

Milliardo hated the thought that his sister would be so dependent on something so evil, but at the same time, he only wanted her to live, and he would insure her life, no matter what the cost.

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Smirking, Treize made his way back towards the castle. The stake he held in his right hand gleamed red in the weak light. Treize knew he was in no danger from the sun though. He would be shadowed by his home long before then.

Slowly, life in Sanq started for the day. Fisherman walked out of there houses, eager to beat the competition. Treize snorted in disgust.

What was the point, when they were all going to die anyways? He was immortal, unchanging in this mortal world, first as a rider, and now as this creature, this bloodsucker.

It was power, power Treize could use to protect the weak, by destroying the strong. His father was strong, the riders were strong, lord Peacecraft was strong, and precious Milliardo was strong.

Noin had been strong, but in the end she was still weaker than him. Her love for Milliardo could not compete with Treize's obsession for him.

"Treize, what are you doing out before dawn?" A member of the riders that protected Sanq asked. What was their name again? It was something about angels, but honestly, Treize couldn't bring himself to care.

"May I come in?" He asked politely, smiling, but not broadly enough to expose his fangs. The young man nodded, stepping to the side to let him into the castle. Treize roughly grabbed him by the hair, pulling his neck back to an almost impossible angle and biting into the sweet flesh there.

He lapped up the salty metallic liquid as if he was a starving child set in front of a feast. Dropping the man to the ground, he licked the remaining blood from his lips. Somewhere, another dragon like Zechs had just died. Treize smiled. This place was no longer a land of Angels, it was a land of demons.

_El Talon de Diablo _was born that day, destroying the angels and enveloping the land in darkness.

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Noin gasped, slowly allowing herself to stumble to her feet. There was a large gash inches from her heart, and Noin almost couldn't believe she had been that lucky. Apparently, Treize had missed and punctured her left lung instead of her heart. It was still a dangerous wound, but the town was close, and the town healer was even closer, less than a mile away.

Clutching her wound, Noin half walked, half crawled back to the village.

_Milliardo, I will always be by your side. I cannot die until I know that it hasn't been in vain._

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Noin. Somewhere, Milliardo could hear her. He could feel her strength even though miles of forest and town separated them.

Noin. He had never told he cared for her, never repaid her. A scowl crossed his face. What type of man was he?

By his side Relena clutched the fang, holding it to her heart.

"Milly!" She screamed. "Footsteps are comin' dis way! We gotta go!" Her free hand pulled at his, and Milliardo scooped the girl up, carrying her out of the room. His footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, and Milliardo clutched his sister.

He knew he could not be the true heir to his family's legacy, he was meant to be a warrior, not an aristocrat. He'd rather face his death bravely than hide behind parliaments and guards. He would fight to bring about peace, and his sister, precious Relena, would maintain it.

However, Treize's force's were catching up quickly, and Milliardo knew that he could not outrun them for long. "Relena, I want you to go to the healer's cabin at the edge of the village. A nice woman named Doctor Po lives there, and she can take care of you."

"But bwother!" Relena pouted, obviously not wanting to leave her brother.

"GO!" he shouted. Her eyes widened, and Milliardo knew she wasn't used to people yelling her. Turning, she ran in the direction he told her. She didn't look back once.

Milliardo was glad. He didn't want her to see what he was about to become.

Pulling on the silver mask of a knight long forgotten during the era of peace, Milliardo wasn't surprised to see that it fit perfectly.

It was who he was. With this mask on, he was a warrior. He wasn't a hormonal teenager lusting after his sister's babysitter or a spoiled prince that refused to get along with his bodyguard, he was a knight.

Pulling one of the decorative swords hanging on the walls from its sheath, Milliardo felt himself calm as the familiar weight settled in his right hand. With this on he was no longer prince Milliardo, he could soar as freely as Treize's dragon once did.

Milliardo smiled at the new name he had chosen. From this day on, he was Zechs Marquise, a knight bound to serve Sanq until it's princess returned. He would join Treize under false pretenses and wait until the day Relena grew up and returned to her rightful place.

Turning, Zechs Marquis face a smirking Treize. He bowed. "Your excellency, I am Zechs Marquise, a knight of Sanq. I am here to serve you."

He watched as Treize smirked, and he knew the man realized who he was. Anger boiled in his veins as he saw the bloody stake in the man's hand. Zechs struggled to keep the grimace from his face. If he convinced Treize that he wanted to help him, then he would be allowed in, and he could insure Relena's safety.

Deep down, he knew that Treize did not want to kill him. By taking on a new identity, Milliardo had become a new person, one that didn't need to be Treize's enemy.

Treize walked forward, placing a hand on Zech's shoulder. For one horrible instant, Zech's thought that Treize was going to bite him, but instead he just smiled, exposing his sharp fangs.

"Welcome to _El Talón del Diablo, _Mr. Zechs Marquise."

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Trowa leaned against the wall outside Quatre's room, a hand pressed against his warm lips. Trowa couldn't believe the other boy had done that, and he couldn't believe he let him do it.

It felt nice, Trowa admitted. He'd wanted more, wanted to pull the slightly smaller boy flush against his body, or push him down on the bed.

Trowa shivered. He was disgusting, lusting over another man. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Quatre's lips were warm and ever so soft, and the arms that had wrapped around the back of his neck seemed to fit there perfectly. Quatre's skin was soft and smooth, even though calluses marred his hands from weaponry training.

Quatre was kind, caring, and smart. Like Trowa, he could appreciate nature, and Trowa had a feeling the two of them would be able to spend hours discussing literature, music, or sitting in complete silence under the starry sky.

Still, these emotions were bad. They were the ones he needed to keep away. Attachment was bad, not something to be relished. If he got attached to Quatre, then when the blonde boy died the scar would be that much deeper.

Trowa was already scarred enough. He had shed enough tears to last an eternity, been through too many emotions to count, and now he lived as a shell, as empty and hollow as a cave.

The sound of retching reached Trowa's ears, and he internally winced with sympathy pains.

Quietly, he looked into Quatre's room, finding the boy lying amongst tangled blankets, shivering. It looked like his fever had broken at least. Trowa grimaced in disgust as the horrible smell of sickness and bile reached his sensitive nose.

Humans were so fragile, their bodies succumbing to sickness so easily.

Trowa walked towards the boy, noting his closed eyes and his harsh breathing. His usually pale skin was red, and sweat collected on his forehead, gluing his blonde locks to his face.

Without those, big, beautiful eyes staring at him, Quatre's face seemed empty.

Grabbing the wet cloth, Trowa tenderly wiped the remaining bile from Quatre's face, using a cleaner part to wipe away the sweat.

One of his long fingers stroked Quatre's cheek, and he immediately pulled away. These emotions that the boy raised inside of him were troublesome and confusing. He didn't like it all.

He barely knew the boy, but already he felt more connected to him than he had to anyone else.

Dropping the cloth, Trowa walked out of the room, didn't noticing the troubled blue eyes that watched him.

He did, however, see his sister down the hall, just out of ear shot.

Standing next to Catherine was a person Trowa had only seen once but heard about several times. Wondering what his sister was doing associating with that thing, Trowa followed them silently.

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Heero smirked as he watched Duo fail another one of Relena's 'lessons.' Relena was teaching Duo to expand his mind in order to use the magic stored their. It was a trying exercise, one that required patience and concentration. Regularly, that would have been no problem for the intelligent brunette, but with Iria's chirping, Solo's stomping, and Relena's chattering, the poor boy dropped pebble after pebble, instead of moving it in the graceful, intricate patterns shown on the diagram.

"Come now Duo," Relena lectured, "tune everyone out and concentrate."

"That's easier said than done lady!" Duo retorted, his brow furrowed in concentration, sweat gleaming on his forehead. He didn't even notice Heero standing ten feet away from him.

It was some ninety degrees outside, and while Relena sat a large, pink umbrella, using her magic to fan herself, Duo stood in the hot sun, training. While Heero relished the weather because of all the dry heat, Duo obviously was adverse to any type of extreme climate.

"Good Duo, only one pattern left." Heero watched with mild interest as Duo shakily lifted the pebble, moving it in a large figure eight pattern, before moving it in circular patterns of various sizes. Finally, Duo collapsed, allowing the stone to drop back onto the grassy plain.

"Oooh! Good job Duo! Now it's off to your sparring session with Heero."

"That asshole will have to come over here and drag my lazy ass off the ground if he wants me to fight him on a day like this." Duo proclaimed, lying spread eagle on the soft grass.

Heero's smirk widened, a sight rarely seen by anyone.

The intense heat had given him a burst of energy and good spirit, so Heero decided to ignore Duo's "asshole" comment. Instead, he walked over to the sweaty boy, amused to see Duo's wide, violet eyes staring at him in shock and disbelief.

"Hey, buddy." He said. Heero grabbed him by his braid, jerking him to his feet.

"Owwww!" Duo whined, pouting. Relena giggled, transforming into a cat and heading inside. Apparently, her thick fur couldn't handle the extreme heat.

"Come on," Heero replied, letting go of Duo's braid and standing across from him.

Duo lunged at his brunette fighting partner, but he was tired and his form was sloppy. Heero dodged the blow easily, backing away from the braided brunette.

"I'm soooo tired," Duo complained. Suddenly, he fell backwards, his arms spread and eyes closed.

Heero ran forward, catching him before he could hit the hard ground. "Duo!"

"I knew you would catch me Heero," Duo replied, smiling. His cheeks were red and his lush lips were parted in a wide smile, showing off straight, white teeth.

"Heero's my hero!" He giggled. Heero raised an eyebrow at that particular comment. Duo was sarcastic and silly at times, but he always retained a serious, determined attitude that was as clear as day if a person took the time to look. It was that determination that, to Heero at least, made Duo a person worthy of his time. Duo was a strong, capable individual capable of driving himself to unknown limits. Stoic as Heero might seem, that determination is what separated Duo from all of his victims. It's what made him _alive_, not just another unfortunate soul wondering through the pathways of life.

Concerned at Duo's almost drunken attitude, Heero lifted a hand to his forehead, not surprised to find that he was warmer than usual.

Heero knew that Duo had been training extremely hard, ever since they arrived five days ago. Between training all day and his nightmares keeping him awake at night, Heero figured it made sense for the poor boy to become sick and weak from exhaustion.

"Let's get you inside and let you rest." Heero intoned, hoping that Duo was sick enough to forget the emotion in his usually monotone voice.

Duo's eyes closed, the smile still on his face.

_How can you smile with your world crumbling around you?_

Heero's left hand itched suddenly. The pattern glowed a bright red, and Heero felt his heart jerk. He was bound to Duo only by this mark. After that, he would leave and never see the other one again. He might even go back to being enemies with the braided boy.

_Why is it that, even though it has only been a few days, that thought hurts?_

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Muttering to himself, Wufei kicked the blonde rider's door open, said rider's food balanced on a plastic tray.

Wufei sighed. He and Meiran had just had another fight, and their families (or at least Treize had told them it was their families) wanted to speed up the engagement process, hoping to get them to settle down together sooner. That was mostly what their fight had been about.

The blonde was asleep on the stiff bed, and he smelled of sickness and discomfort. Really, it was an injustice to treat a guest like this. The healer hadn't even been sent to see him! Really, it was no wonder he didn't want to join Treize.

Setting the tray down on the bedside table, Wufei prepared to head out when the blonde spoke.

"Trowa..." It was a weak moan, barely heard by even Wufei's sharp ears. The rider frowned in discomfort at seeing the boy in such a weak position.

_There is no place on the battlefield for women and bleeding hearts._

Wufei closed the door behind him with a sigh. He wondered if becoming a rider was something Quatre was proud of, or if he had been randomly chosen, like Wufei himself.

Of course, even though Wufei was happy with his dragon now, she still brought several problems with her. His family's rivalry with Meiran's family, their engagement, working for Treize, and many other things as well.

Still, he owed much to Treize, which was why he worked for the honorable man, even if he didn't always agree with Treize's intentions.

Treize had saved his family from going to war with Meiran's family, and as much as Wufei hated to admit it, he'd much rather be engaged to the frustrating woman than fighting against her. He couldn't kill her. Her lifeless eyes would haunt him forever.

He could remember the day Treize came into his life perfectly, even if it was nearly ten years ago.

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Wufei launched a kick at Master O, his fighting instructor, disappointed when the man caught him by the ankle.

"You have to try harder Wufei, or you'll never amount to anything." The giant man let go of Wufei's foot, and Wufei stumbled before he regained his balance.

Wufei sighed, pouting. He pushed his glasses farther up on his face, wishing he could go back to his room and read. He hated fighting!

"I don't wanna!" Wufei replied, stomping his foot and crossing his arms. Master O sighed, about to go into 'lecture mode,' when screams ripped through the village.

Wufei and Master O rushed outside. There was fire everywhere. The red flames danced among the wooden frames with alarming vigor. Soon there would be no more of the town. Wufei watched as men with gleaming weapons attacked his family and friends. Wufei gasped, wondering why anyone would want to attack his family.

Master O growled, a few words escaping his mouth. Wufei's eyes widened in wonder. He had never heard those words before! He had to hurry and write them down before he forgot them!

"Wufei," Master O turned to him, harsh anger gleaming in his eyes. "Run into the forest and hide. I'll come and get you as soon as possible. Don't trust any strangers, no matter how nice they seem."

Wufei nodded and ran into the dense forest that surrounded their village. At six years old, the poor boy was too young to understand what death was, and in his mind he thought this was all a joke and when he came back, everyone would be there to greet him.

Never did it cross his mind that he might never see the people he grew up with again.

Stumbling through the underbrush, Wufei tripped and nearly fell several times. His rich silk robes now had dirt and mud in them, but Wufei didn't really care.

BAM!

Wufei stumbled backwards, holding his sore skull. Whoever he had just run into had a hard head!

"OWWW!" Wufei heard a voice whine. His eyes widened. He didn't know that voice, and Master O had told him not to talk to strangers!

Suddenly an arm reached out and whacked him. "You meanie! You can't just go around bumping into other peoples!"

Wufei looked straight into the eyes of a little girl with teary black eyes. Still, the girl had just hit him!

"You're the one who ran into me, you cantankerous cow!"

The other girl's eyes narrowed in thought. Wufei grinned. He was the smartest boy in his class, and he even read the dictionary so he could use words no one else could!

"My name's Nataku, you dishonorable donkey!"

Wufei clenched his fists at his sides, glaring at the little girl. She mirrored his motion, her short pigtails sticking up like horns. The flames from the village danced behind her, making it look like she were immersed in fire. Wufei couldn't help but shiver. In his childish, cooties-filled world, the little girl looked like the devil.

"Now now children, shouldn't you get along and play together?" Wufei and the little girl turned to face a tall man with red hair. It was dark in the forest, since it was almost nighttime, and Wufei and the little girl couldn't see much of the man besides his bright hair and even brighter eyes.

Wufei felt something cold crawl up his spine. There was something wrong about this man. He couldn't place it, but something was not right.

Wufei and the little girl forgot their new found animosity, huddling together to face this newer, bigger threat.

Squatting so that he was around their height, the strange man held out a hand to both of them.

"Why don't the both of you come with me?" The man asked, smiling slightly.

The two children shook their heads, unconsciously mirroring each other.

"I don't talk to strangers!" Wufei told the man.

"Well then, my name is Treize. You're Wufei, and you're Meiran. See, know we all know each other."

Wufei looked at the little girl, seeking an answer. "I guess he's not a stranger no more, since he told us his name."

Wufei nodded, and together, the both of them took his hand, not realizing how it would change the future for them and their families.

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After that, Treize had brought them back to Wufei's village, negotiating with the villagers. By giving governmental control over to _El Talón del Diablo, _Treize divided the land between the families. He also agreed for Wufei and Meiran to marry, inheriting the land when they both came of age and ending the dispute. To stop the both of them from being manipulated by their families, he took them both away to learn and train with him.

Wufei could never thank Treize enough for what he did, and was continuing to do, for his family.Even though he hadn't seen any of them since that fateful day, he knew they were much better off than they would've been if Treize hadn't of come.

Still, lately things seemed odd, and he knew Meiran could feel it. For the first time, Treize had insisted that they wear these cuffs to control their magic. He wasn't even allowing Wufei to communicate with his dragon!

"Wufei Chang," Zechs muttered as he passed the oriental teen, interrupting his thoughts. Wufei bowed respectively to Treize's right hand man, but he couldn't help but notice that even Zech's now wore a gold cuff around his left wrist.

_What's going on?_

Honestly, what would make Treize fear any of his followers?

Wufei couldn't help but wonder…

He could never trust anyone who kept him in chains.

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Noin looked at the healer's cabin from her spot on the ground. The sun was fully up in the sky, and the villagers had already gone to work.

There was nobody to hear her scream. There was nobody to watch her die.

She had dragged herself this far, but her strength had given out, and she knew she couldn't even make it a foot farther. Her vision was beginning to blur at the edges, making everything brown and dull, and she could barely move her arms. A trail of blood pooled around her.

There was so much blood. Noin had so many regrets, and despite herself, she felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. There were so many things she would never do, so many people she would never meet.

_Milliardo, forgive me._

"Miss Noiny!" A worried voice called, and Noin glanced up, only to see princess Relena herself, clutching the fang to her chest as if it were a holy relic.

If only she knew the truth.

But, the truth was too vile for a child that sweet and pure.

"Miss Noiny! Somebody help! Miss Noiny's going to bleed to death!"

Relena grabbed her arm, attempting to drag her towards the house. Noin felt as if she were watching a movie. She couldn't even feel the girl's grasp on her arm.

And then…

"Oh my!"

The healer came.

That's all Noin could remember, up until Milliardo, or 'Zechs Marquise,' found her. Memories after that were scrambled together. They left Relena with the healer's family, and generation after generation they promised to take care of the princess and keep her secret safe.

Noin had joined _El Talón del Diablo_ in order to stay by Milliardo's side. Since then, things had been one mission after another, committing unspeakable sins, all in the name of peace and the devil.

Noin had impersonated countless people, like she impersonated Catherine now.

She had murdered people who she thought should live and formed alliances with people she thought should die.

One of those people was standing before her. A wealthy human who had fallen in love with Treize, Lady Une was one nasty piece of work.

"What can I do for you ma'am?" Noin asked, a false smile plastered on her face. What was the Lady doing?

This could blow her cover. Trowa was right there!

"Miss Noin, I need to speak with you." She paused, glancing over at Trowa, who was sitting outside Quatre's room. "Alone, if that's okay with you."

Noin nodded, sending one last, worried glance at Trowa before following the lady. Nothing good could come of this.

"I'm afraid, Noin, that Mr. Barton is getting suspicious with your Catherine impersonation. If you cannot find some way to keep inconspicuous, then I'm afraid we'll have to terminate him."

Noin's eyes widened at that. Trowa was just a baby. He couldn't even be over one hundred!

Noin's eyes narrowed. Still, she couldn't disobey an order from Une. The woman was her superior.

"Lady Une, how many times must I tell you to be more graceful."

Une turned, only to come face to face with Treize. He was back! That was unexpected.

"Lady Noin, you are dismissed."

Noin bowed before hurrying from the room. Lady Une's vindictive eyes followed her. It had been tough, working against her beliefs for all these years, but for Sanq kingdom to rise again, she knew it was necessary.

Noin hurried down the hall, when suddenly she was slammed against the wall. Her head bashed against the wall, temporarily blinding her as stars flashed around her. Startled, her disguise faded, and she felt her self shift from Catherine back to Noin. This was great. It was just freakin' great.

Angry and ready to yell at anyone foolish enough to run into her, Noin looked up…

Straight into the eyes of Trowa Barton.

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Quatre sat up slowly, his head still spinning. Slowly, he reached over for the food tray that had been set in his room. At the movement his stomach turned. Quatre dry heaved, his stomach aching as if someone had stabbed him there, repeatedly.

Carefully, he let his gaze wonder around the room. The door was opened. Quatre didn't know why, but for some reason that scared him.

Shifting his gaze to the left, he started, nearly falling from the bed. Sitting beside him in a rickety old chair was Mr. Khushrenada himself. The man reached a pale hand out to touch Quatre's forehead. Quatre stilled, fighting the urge to cringe.

"I see your fever's broken. That's good."

"Why are you here?" Quatre asked, annoyed at how soft and weak his voice had just sounded.

Treize leaned over him, his presence pushing Quatre back into his mattress. Gazing up at the vampire above him, Quatre noticed how long and very sharp those fangs seemed at such a small distance. Treize's eyes shone with amusement as he leaned even closer, his fangs brushing the shell of Quatre's ear.

"What would you do I wonder?" He whispered, his voice deep and breathy.

"What?" Quatre croaked, too scared of the man's fangs to say anything smart.

"What would you do if I told you your families death wasn't an accident?" Quatre's eyes widened. After all these years…

"What would you do if I told you they were murdered? If I told you I knew who murdered them and could help you get revenge?"

"No!" Quatre shouted, pushing Treize away. If Quatre killed the people who killed his family, then the survivors would come after him and the people precious to him, creating a never ending cycle of death.

Treize laughed as Quatre struggled for breath. He got up and walked towards the door.

"When you are ready to know, find me and I'll tell you."

Quatre gripped the sheets in white-knuckled fingers. A part of him, a large part of him, wanted to know who did it and extract revenge. The other part of him believed in the pacifism taught to him by his sisters and father.

"Get out."

Both sides were at war with each other, and despite Quatre's vehement refusal of Treize's help, he still knew that one day he might be back here.

Every since his family's death, the kind, pacifistic side of Quatre started to rot away, leaving his thirst for revenge greater than ever.

Quatre gripped his heart, holding back his tears.

Treize closed the door with a smile.

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To say Trowa was mad would be the understatement of the century. Trowa was livid. He felt betrayed, foolish, and confused at the same time.

Events leading up until this point and time flashed before his eyes. Catherine crying, tangled up and held hostage by Dorothy. Dropping his weapons. Watching Quatre drop his weapons. The suffering spell, watching as the blonde writhed in pain, screaming, and not being able to do anything about it, all to help a person who wasn't even his sister. Another emotion followed the others. Guilt: horribly heavy guilt that threatened to crush him were he stood.

"Who are you?" To a person that didn't know Trowa, they would think that he was perfectly calm and collected. Trowa was an expert at hiding his emotions, mostly because he hadn't believed he had any emotions left.

"My name is Noin, Trowa." Calmly, the woman moved his hands off of her. Though Trowa seemed to be in perfect control, Noin knew he was only a teenager by elfin standards and a mere baby by hers.

Trowa opened his mouth to speak, but Noin held a hand up, silencing him. In her actual form, he was nearly his height, so it wasn't too hard.

"I am a water elemental." As she spoke, the woman's formed changed. She suddenly became about three inches shorter than Trowa, with golden blonde hair and blue-green eyes.

Trowa took a step back, alarmed at the sight of 'Quatre.'

"I mean you no harm Trowa," she even spoke in his voice!

"You see, I am also against the Devil's Claw organization." Trowa frowned in disbelief, but 'Quatre' smiled before shifting back into Noin.

"Prove it," Trowa told her, an eyebrow raised.

Noin took his hand in hers, leading him to a very special room, one that hadn't been opened for hundreds of years.

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Zechs Marquise stepped out from his hiding place. As Trowa and Noin left his sight, he smiled. It was time. The tables were turning, and this time Treize would be the one to pay.

Carefully, he knocked on the temperamental rider's door.

"Who is it?" the boy asked, his voice muffled by the thick door.

"Zechs Marquise." There was a pause, some shuffling, and the door opened, revealing the lithe teen. His slightly slanted eyes glared up at Zechs with cold determination.

"Why are you here?" Zechs almost laughed. Wufei and Heero were so much alike. They were blunt, and neither had any regard for tact.

Zechs decided he would be just as blunt.

"Treize Khushrenada has lied to you." Zechs half expected the rider to slam the door shut in his face, but Wufei had been losing trust in Mr. Khushrenada.

"How so?" Wufei stepped away from the door, allowing Zechs to enter the meticulous room and sit down on an expensive, iron-wrought chair.

"Do you want to know the real reason why neither you or Meiran has seen your parents since you were brought here?"

Wufei's eyes narrowed. Zechs sighed. That was as close to a yes as he was going to get. It was time to tell Wufei everything. After all, Relena's Sanq would amount to nothing if she didn't have knights to defend her.


	9. Meiran's Sacrifice

-1Wufei ran, darting past the under shrub, scratching himself on long prickly thorns and razor sharp greenery as he ran through the Eastern country side.

"This-this, it can't be!"

His breath came in puffs, but he could not, would not, slow down. He had to prove that Zechs was wrong, had to prove it for him and Meiran and Treize.

Something in his heart told him Zechs would not lie to him.

"_Your parents are dead."_

"NO!"

"_There was never an engagement to Meiran. The story was meant to trick you, distract you from more important issues."_

"NO!"

"_Meiran is a pretty girl though. I fear for her life when Treize decides that she's no longer of any use."_

"No…" Wufei collapsed on the ground, tears pouring from his eyes, like a pathetic woman.

"I am weak…" His hands clenched the soil, tearing through the grass and soil and scratching the hard rock beneath it.

"I do not deserve my dragon. I do not deserve to ride her."

"_What will you do with this knowledge Wufei. Can you serve him knowing that her life is sliding away?"_

Like an hourglass, her life was slipping through his fingers. He tried to grasp the sand, but the more he closed his palm around it, the faster it fell from his grasp. He pushed himself to his feet, filled with a new determination.

Finally, he came upon it. The village was burnt beyond recognition. The wood was black and twisted, termite infested and fallen from age. Metal swords lay incased in warriors. Many were not the sharp, Eastern style katanas of Wufei or Meiran's clan. These blades were thicker and blunter, the work of an Easterner.

Treize had lied. The entire time, he had sworn that he would keep them safe from danger, when he was the largest threat to them.

'_Wufei…'_

His Dragon beckoned to him, reaching into the scattered, unprotected barrens of his mind.

"I will kill him for this."

'_I will char him to death…'_

"Do you hear me Dragon? I swear upon my honor as a warrior… He will meet his end at my hands!"

'_And my Claws!'_

Picking up a fallen, rusty katana, Wufei thrust it into the air. The rust seemed to fall away, leaving gleaming, deadly steel. Wufei's face filled with an almost maniacal determination. His dragon rode above him, howling in bloodlust. Revenge would be theirs. Treize would pay.

Unknown to them, Meiran hid in the shadows, watching and knowing, and formulating her own plan for revenge.

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"We have lost the Changs, sir."

"Interesting, Lady Une. Certainly, they couldn't have found out on their own. Do you have any idea who was dishonorable enough to leak information?'

"I believe it was Mr. Zechs Marquise Sir."

"Zechs huh? Well, I guess it is to be expected. Pity, though, old friend, that we must come to this."

"Punishment sir?"

"None."

"Sir?"

"I will deal with Milliardo myself in due time. For now, bring me some tea, will you? All this betrayal is giving me a headache."

"Yes sir!"

"Alone at last, aren't I? Lady Une, my dearest puppet, I fear even you are loosing your usefulness. I only hope that in the end, the darkness you sought is worth an eternity spent in hell."

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"Trowa, do you see now?"

Trowa traced the childish carvings on the walls of a childish room, princess Relena's childish room. Noin had told him of the past, and Treize's betrayal. It was a touching story, but he'd heard worst. Treize had done worst.

"I see that you've spent hundred of years infiltrating a badly run operation."

"Does that mean you'll help us, Trowa?"

Trowa closed his eyes, deep in thought. Noin wished she could see his eyes, if only to get the slightest hint of the thoughts running through his mind.

"I'm not on anyone's side but the riders."

Noin frowned, but didn't disagree with him. It was his choice after all. What made them different from Treize was that they didn't need to trick anyone into joining their side. Still, it was a shame. The time was nearly perfect. Four of the five legendary riders had been found. It was almost the time to act.

It was almost the time for everything to end.

And then, from the ashes, for everything to rise again. A cycle, a circle, a waltz to last all of eternity.

"I guess it's your choice."

She was answered by the slamming of a door.

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Quatre stared out the window in the main entry way. Once again, he wondered what his father would think of him. He was still the same boy from when Duo found him, but yet, he wasn't. He still had white blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and pale skin. He still appeared small and rather delicate, but he was also different.

The Quatre from before wasn't only delicate looking, but actually delicate. He could fight, but he didn't know why he should. He cried, almost every night, and blamed himself by day. He was a vagabond, a traveler, with no ties. Now he had Duo and Trowa.

Before it had been him and his violin. He had been utterly alone.

Still somehow, he had never felt as alone as he did in that moment. He had cried again, after he swore not to. Crying was for the weak. If he were stronger, then he wouldn't cry.

If he were stronger, papa and Iria and the rest of his sisters and the Maguanacs would still be here.

Slowly, he got down onto his hands and knees, reciting a prayer to Allah he hadn't made for weeks. And during it, tears flooded from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks. His chest hurt so badly he thought his heart might explode. He huddled into a small ball, clutching his chest at the pain of this moment, at the pain of living.

For Duo, who had lost Hilde and the church, who lost his faith and his friends.

For Hilde who lost her life and Trowa who lost his will.

He cried for them, because he was still weak enough to do so.

And that was how Trowa found him.

And seeing the blonde there, crying for his own pain, for the pain of the lost and the weary, made him seem so old. And seeing Quatre with puffy red eyes and salty tears crusted along his face, Trowa decided he had never seen anything so beautiful.

After all, he had never been strong enough to cry.

Standing there, he didn't even know what to say to the person he had known for only a week or so. He didn't want to say, it will be ok, because he couldn't see the future. He didn't want to say, cheer up, because the blonde's misery was appropriate for this stormy day of mutiny and rage and desperation.

Instead, he stood in the door frame, watching Quatre weep, a hand unconsciously raised to his lips. The memory of soft lips and wide aqua eyes badgered him, refusing to leave his mind. Frustrated, he shut the door. The noise echoed around him, temporarily covering the tears.

Then, when they cleared, he could hear them again, even louder.

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Heero watched as Duo sat by a river on the outskirts of the village. Solo's giant head hovered above his shoulder, acting as if he wanted to lean on the boy but was afraid the weight might be too much. Heero couldn't blame him. The braided brunette had the world on his shoulders right now, and even if he acted nonchalant about it, Heero new that even a single blade of grass might send him tumbling over the edge.

As it was, Heero enjoyed watching Duo when the other didn't know he was there. When Duo looked at him, he smiled, whether he was happy or not, probably a survival instinct.

"I wonder where Quatre is right now?" Duo questioned, looking up at the gray sky. Winter was always a time for thunderstorms in this place, with the cold winds from the North and the desert to the South. Being on the ocean didn't help either, but of course, the ocean was too beautiful to run from for just a few petty squalls.

Everything beautiful has its thorns, even if they are hidden.

Solo must have replied, but of course, Heero couldn't hear the dragon unless it wanted to be heard. Obviously, this was a sensitive situation. Solo didn't want to be heard.

"I'll find you Cat, I know I will."

Iria wobbled up to Heero, her long neck stretching just above his head when she kneeled. Despite their initial animosity towards each other, he and Iria now agreed on most anything. They both wanted to find Quatre, and they both admired Duo, and right now, that was really all that mattered.

Suddenly, the dragon screeched in pain, her massive neck swinging back and forth as if she were trying to toss the pain away from her.

Duo turned, startled, and muttered a curse at Iria's discomfort. After all, Iria was still connected to Quatre, even though the strong magic on his side weakened it tremendously. When he was in pain, she was in pain. Iria trashed around, knocking Heero off his feet with her powerful tail, the spines barely missing him.

"Iria!" Duo looked at her, eyes wide, but the dragon didn't seem to recognize him. Snarling, she revealed dangerously sharp fangs. Heero realized three things at once. One, Iria was going to attack Duo. Two, the area was too small for either Duo or Solo to have an effective escape plan. Three, he didn't want Duo to die.

There was a flash of Duo's long braid, long white teeth, and then pain in his arm. Heero passed out, falling into the cold, fast moving river. Duo stood behind him, safe from Iria, who had snapped out of her rampage as soon as she tasted Heero's blood.

"That stupid oath! Heero! I can't believe you did that!" Recklessly jumping into river, Duo dived after him, knowing that Heero couldn't take the cold.

'_Duo!'_

Solo roared, but Duo ignored him. Most of him wanted to save Heero because he couldn't just let the other boy die, but a smaller, more selfish part of Duo wanted to make sure that Heero's couldn't repay the debt.

Somewhere along this crazy path, Duo had gotten used to being with Heero, talking to him, teasing him, and being watched by him when Heero didn't think he noticed.

Shivering and soaked to the bone, Duo grabbed hold of the other boy's wrist with his hand. Their signs brushed, and the flames on Duo's hand seemed to roar to life scalding his skin and heating the water around them.

_Heero!_

The other boy's limp, cold fingers started to slip from his grasp.

"I won't let go!"

The current was driving the two boys forward, towards, sharp, jagged rocks. Heero's hand was dead weight, and though Duo was clinging to those fingers, they were slipping away just as quickly.

"No!" And suddenly, Duo dragged Heero through the current, pulling the fire spirit to his chest and wrapping his arms around the unconscious boy.

"I won't let you get hurt."

And there was Heero, smirking at him, carrying him inside, clutching to him, bathing with him, and living with him.

"I-I,"

The pattern on Duo's hand grew red hot, feeling to Duo like he had dipped his hand in the sun.

"Heero…"

And he lost consciousness, still clinging on to Heero. Because, for the first time, he hadn't been thinking about how much it had hurt to lose Hilde, Sister Helen, or Father Maxwell. He wasn't remembering the days before the church found him, wondering around the streets, dirty and forgotten. He wasn't hoping for mom or dad, or losing sight of finding Quatre. He was sure, for once in his life. And clutching Heero to him as tightly as possible, he felt happy.

Even as his body floated towards the rocks, a small smile flittered across his features.

010203040501020304050102030405

Wufei stalked towards the giant castle that held, that man…

That _thing._

"I will win."

Racing up the path, Wufei ran through the open doors.

"Treize Khushrenada! Come out and face me, you coward!" His voice echoed through the once calm halls, bouncing off the walls and through the halls, spreading his message through the temple.

"Now now Wufei, is there really a need for such racket? I'm right here."

Treize descended the stairs mockingly, his sword tracing the rail with a scraping sound.

"I'll kill you!" Wufei roared, racing towards him, his sword raised. His dragon rose with him, an angry flame spouting from her mouth.

With a clang, the two warrior's blades clashed as a red dragon circled them, eyeing the battle. Wufei's arm shook from the force of the other warrior, but he ignored it, focusing on avenging his family.

Wufei leapt backwards, breaking their deadlock, before he shot forward, only to have his blade caught by Treize.

"You bastard!" Wufei roared, swinging his blade at his old leader recklessly. There was a clash, and Wufei's sword was driven from his hand, clattering against the wall.

"If you had served me, Wufei, you would have lived. Please understand that it is with the deepest honor for your memory that I kill you." Wufei closed his eyes as the blade swung towards him, only to hear the sick sound of metal cutting through flesh.

Blood trickled onto his face, but it wasn't his blood.

"How noble of you, to leap in front of him," Treize pulled the blade back, frowning as Meiran fell to the ground.

"I pity you," he continued, grimacing at the blood on his blade. Wufei's dragon lunged at him with vigor, but there was a loud snap, and the man was gone.

"Meiran," Wufei's voice shook as he reached for his beloved.

"Wufei, you weakling, always needing my help…" Meiran trailed off, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth as a wave of unbearable pain hit her.

"Don't worry about me…" She continued with a gasp. "The-the others. Riders. They need you…"

Wufei ignored her, bringing her slender body closer to his, tears sprouting from his eyes at the amount of blood she'd lost.

"_Cura," _a wave of pain shot through him as he remembered the anti spell cuffs he wore.

"Let me go, Wufei," Meiran whispered, her breaths ragged and uneven.

"No," Wufei answered, shaking his head. She couldn't die, not now, when he realized what she meant to him. She couldn't die, not when he knew that he loved her.

"I love you," she whispered, her body going limp in his arms.

"Meiran, Meiran, MEIRAN!"


End file.
